


Remembering (Because of your smile)

by AwkwardAndUncomfortable



Series: Different Circumstances for Darcy Lewis [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Angst and Feels, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bad Decisions, Breaking and Entering, Bruce Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Cheating, Dark Steve, Deaf Clint Barton, Excessive Swearing, F/M, Handcuffs, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of past child abuse, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Murder, Mutants, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Original Character Death(s), Past Child Abuse, Past Mind Control, Slightly scary, Slow Burn, Trauma, What Have I Done, X-Men References, Young Bruce, Young Darcy Lewis, how do I title, psychologist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardAndUncomfortable/pseuds/AwkwardAndUncomfortable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky remembered Darcy before he remembered anything else.</p><p>***<br/>This is my first fanfiction so be gentle. I'm just playing around with the characters so probably a little OC. Leave a comment on what you think, feedback is always good, whether it's positive or negative. If I've gotten something wrong please tell me, I don't want to completely ruin this. Thanks for reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy first met James when she was seven.

Darcy first met James when she was seven. 

*****

Darcy hid in the corner of the playground, facing the wire fence and praying to God that they didn't find her. She wasn't so sure that there was a God, but her Momma had always said that when she needed help she should pray to Him.

The fact that He had never responded hadn't stopped her asking. Her Momma hadn't stopped asking until the very end, so Darcy wouldn't stop either.

She clenched her eyes shut and her fingers curled into fists when she heard the cries of children getting louder. Closer.

She was jerked out of her self imposed isolation when she felt something shine against her eyes. She opened them to see a fingers wrapped around the top of the fence. She immediately loved them. They sparkled in the sunlight and were attached to a hand that did the same. She smiled in delight when she saw that the hand turned into an entire arm that sparkled. She grinned up at the man who the arm was attached to, the other children temporarily forgotten.

He looked confused for a second, as if he didn't know what to make of the small child smiling up at him. 

"Does your entire body sparkle?" Darcy asked the first question that popped into her head. Her teachers always berated her for having to no brain-to-mouth filter, but it hadn't cured her of the habit.

The man's face scrunched up in confusion again.

"Your arm sparkles. I want to know if the rest of your body sparkles." She clarified, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

He looked down at his arm and the wrinkles in his forehead smoothed out as he finally understood. "No." He rumbled. "Only my arm sparkles."

"Why does it sparkle?" She asked, reaching out to trace her fingers over the sparkly material. He flinches at first, but when she carries on unperturbed, he relaxes and lets her chubby little fingers run over the metal.

"It's made of metal. So when it's in the sun it sparkles." He rumbled, trying to smile. He's sure that it comes out as more of a grimace but the little girl doesn't seem to mind.

"That's so cool!" She gushes. "I want an arm that sparkles." The man actually grins at that. Usually, people outright stare and ask imposing questions rather than just leaving him alone. She's possibly the first person that found his arm 'cool'.

She's so caught up in staring at his arm that she's forgotten about the other kids. She suddenly remembers them when a sharp cry sounds through the playground. 

"Found her! I found the pig!" A girls shrill cry rose through the air, causing Darcy to look behind her. The man glares at the little monster making the sound when it becomes clear that she was shouting about Darcy. The girl and all the children following her quickly fell silent when they noticed his withering glare. 

He looks back down at Darcy, but it's too late. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and her bottom lip trembles. "Hey, don't cry." He lowers to his knees and wipes away the stray tear that leaks down her cheek. "Don't cry. Those other kids don't mean what they're saying."

She shakes her head at him. "Yes they do." She sobs, fully crying now. "They say it every day." His jaw clenches as he absorbs the fact that they are probably why she was hiding in the corner of the playground by herself.

He doesn't know what made him stop, but when he walked by the small school and saw her with her eyes closed murmuring words under her breath, he wanted to know what she was doing. Now that he knew, he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.

"Hey, you want to know what I do when people are mean to me?" He asked. Darcy looked up his metal hand, suddenly interested. She nodded slowly. He grinned at her. "I scare 'em." He said, his voice taking on a Brooklyn strain. She looked at his face, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Next time one of the other kids are mean to you, I want you to go up to them and pretend that you're a big scary monster and scare them away." 

"How?" She asked, a smile forming on her lips.

"Like this." He demonstrated by flailing his arms around and making a screeching sound as hideous as he could make it. The man looked down to see Darcy giggling again. "Just like that okay?" Darcy nodded and mimicked the gesture, roaring and flailing her arms around as much as she could. "Yeah, just like that." He paused for a second. "You know that you should just ignore them though. When kids are mean to you, don't let what they're saying get to you. It's your decision to let what they're saying upset you you know."

She nodded in understanding, although the man wasn't entirely sure that she understood fully. He looks above her shoulder to see a concerned woman moving towards them, most likely a teacher. "I've got to go, but remember what I said okay?"

"Wait!" Darcy looked panicked. "What's your name?" 

The man's face scrunched up in confusion. "I-I-I don't know." Darcy went silent for a few seconds, noticing how his eyes darkened in thought.

"Well my name's Darcy." She said to distract him, not wanting the sparkly man to be sad.

She grinned at him and he smiled back, relieved at not being pressured into giving an answer. "It was nice to meet you Darcy. I'm sure I'll see you again." Conscious of what a lie that was, he strode away, just as the woman put her arm on Darcy's shoulder and nudged her to head back inside.

Unknown to the man, it wasn't a lie. He would seek her out again and again. Her smile would bring him back each time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next time Darcy met James, she was fifteen.

The next time Darcy met James, she was fifteen.

****

"Fuck you!" Darcy screamed at her - now - ex-boyfriend. After a month of defending herself from his wandering hands, Darcy was sick of it. Of course because she had developed some killer curves at a very young age, that obviously meant that she was easy. Well at least she was according to the entire teenage male population. 

"Fine!" He shouted back, his once handsome features made ugly with his rage. "I'll just tell everyone that you're frigid anyway!" Darcy glared back.

"Go for it asshole! At least I don't have to harass girls for sex!" 

"You were practically asking for it!"

"Bullshit!" She screamed before raising her hand and slapping him as hard as she possibly could. As Darcy stormed downstairs she sent a tight smile to his slack-jawed parents before marching past them and outside. 

She hoped that his parents had heard everything and were currently screaming at Jake more than she had. Not that that would stop him from spreading horrible rumors about her. What was it with her and her horrible taste in men? Darcy had left a long trail of frustrated boyfriends who had dumped her when she refused to put out. 

Not my fault that I have self-respect. She thought viciously as she hurried home.

Darcy prided herself on not caring what other people thought but at times like these, when she was by herself and feeling vulnerable, the weight of people's words pressed down on her like a weight. Before she could stop herself, Darcy felt a single tear drop slip down her cheek. It was like a runaway train; once it started, it wouldn't stop.

She burst into sobs. Not gentle, ladylike weeping. Oh no. When Darcy cried - which was rare - it was into wails of utter misery. The fact that she was in the middle of a darkened street by herself didn't stop her from pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes and sobbing like a child.

Darcy carried on crying for what felt like forever, but was probably only ten minutes before wiping away her tears and mentally telling herself to pull her big girl panties up and get over it.

Feeling much better after a good cry, she pulled her hands from her face, straightened her shoulders and marched forward.....

And straight into a brick wall. 

Or, what was actually a man who apparently was so buff that he felt like a brick wall. Darcy only just managed to stop herself from visibly salivating at the feel of obvious abs. 

"S-sorry." She stuttered, a blush spilling into her cheeks. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She looked up at his face after he didn't reply or make a move to walk around her. Her brow scrunched in as his familiar face tugged at her memory. "Do I know you?" She asked, trying to ignore the feel of his all too intense eyes gazing at her.

She shifted uncomfortably as he continued to stare at her face as if she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Little did she know, he was also trying to remember her. 

Something about her blue eyes, stained red with tears pulled at him, as if he should know who she was. But he didn't know much of anything anymore. He felt like he'd been in a deep sleep for a long time, and he'd only just woken up. But instead of feeling refreshed, he'd just felt a mind-numbing sense of confusion. He had no idea where he was or why he was here. Or even who he was. All he knew was that this girl in front of him, meant something to him. He just wasn't sure what it was yet.

He dug through his memories, but it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. As soon as he felt like he'd gotten a grip on the memory, it slipped through his fingers.

"Hey! I know where I know you from!" Her cry of triumph pulled him out of the sinkhole that was his mind. You step in too far and you'd get sucked in, to be lost forever. "You taught me how to stop bullies when I was little." It was her smile of accomplishment, so out of place with her tear-stained cheeks that jolted the memory to the front of his mind.

"Darcy." The word felt right on his tongue. As if it belonged on the edge of his lips.

She grinned at him. "Yep, that's me." They both stood in a comfortable silence for a few seconds as they thought over the memory that rested as clear as day in their minds for the first time in years. "You got a name yet?" She asked, her face clear of judgment. The man surprised himself by actually feeling glad that she still held back pressure and judgement. For some reason it made him feel safe.

He actually considered her question for a few seconds before a name swam up to the edge of his mind. He grabbed onto it before it could escape. "James." The name seemed to fit him, she thought. Traditional with an edge of danger. 

He felt a strange sense of satisfaction about remembering something of himself. Maybe the rest would slip into place now that he remembered his name.

"Nice to meet you James." Her smile seemed to demand one back. He did so, only realising that he was smiling when his face ached from using muscles that had been untouched for as long as he could remember.

Considering that he had answered her question, James felt that it was only fair if she answered one of his. "Why were you crying?" He asked, voice gruff.

"My douchebag boyfriend tried to feel me up one too many times, so I dumped his sorry ass." His eyebrow arched in question.

"So why are you crying if you left him? Shouldn't you be happy that you're not with him anymore?" 

"Well yeah I am, because I can do so much better than him, but I still feel sad that I broke up with him."

"I understand." He said, although he really didn't. They stood awkwardly for a few seconds, neither entirely sure of what to say.

"What are you doing now?" Darcy asked, still unsure how to ease the sudden tension in the air.

"I-I-I don't know." This felt eerily similar to their previous conversation.

Darcy brushed off his obvious discomfort at not knowing and just asked the next question that floated into her mind. "Why are you in town then? Work?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure."

She looked at him then, really looked at him. And finally noticed the tears in his clothes and the bags under his eyes. The exhaustion that seemed to pull at his shoulders and the way his eyes were constantly darting around. Assessing threats. She noticed the stubble on his cheeks as if he hadn't shaved for days. She remembered the confusion in his eyes when she asked for his names, and the relief when the name slipped past his lips, as if he wasn't entirely sure that he could've answered her.

She leaned closer to him and met his eyes. "Do you know why you're here?" He shook his head, mutely. "Do you know who you are, besides your name?" He shook his head again. "What's the last thing you remember?" She asked. 

He looked up from his hands and she saw that his eyes were full of tears. The single word that he whispered brought a gasp to her lips. "You."

It had been at least six years since they'd met. How could an entire six years be lost to him? What could've happened to him in order to for him to lose that much time?

She was scared to ask him the next question. "What do you remember before that?" The haunted look in his eyes answered for him.

"Nothing."

"Shit."

They stood in silence, James statue-like in his stillness and Darcy frantically searching her mind for something that she could do to help this poor man.

Suddenly an idea popped into her head and out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Are you hungry?" She asked. 

He nodded. "Good." She said before marching away. Darcy looked back to see him staring after her, flabbergasted. "Come on then." His confused expression remained. She sighed impatiently. "We're going to get something to eat." He still looked confused, so Darcy marched back and grabbed his left hand before dragging him after her as she walked through town.

He simply trailed after her, staring at her hand clasped over his metal fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment on what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After that night, James visited often.

After that night, James visited often.

****

"It's this way! We go forwards and take a left!" Darcy shouted, pulling the map away from James. He yanked it right back.

"Nope, you're looking at it wrong." He jabbed a finger at the map. "We're there."

She tugged the map away from him again. "No we're there." James pulled at it again, neatly tearing the map in half. "Now look what you did!" She bellowed, pressing the pieces together as if it would magically fix the map.

"Do you know what?" James tugged the ripped map out of her hands and dropped them into the nearest bin. "We don't need a map."

They were currently touring Culver university. Well they were supposed to be, right now they were bickering whilst getting lost.

After that night, James felt himself being drawn back to that little town in the middle of nowhere. He somehow found himself in front of Darcy each time, the memories of their time together flooding back with her smile. He never remembered anything else though. Just how her smile made him feel.

They had an unspoken agreement. She wouldn't mention the scars that littered his body and the lack of memory. He wouldn't mention her parents or how she never seemed to have anybody to care for her. They simply enjoyed having someone.

James turned up every couple of months with a haunted look in his eyes. Then she would smile at him and the haunted look fell away. He would stay for a few days and disappear in the middle of the night. Gone without a trace. 

Over the four years since that night they slowly got to know each other, then they grew to like each other. After that they grew to love each other. For Darcy, James was it. All of her life she's been told about true love and how it was this perfect thing. 

But true love had scars. James did. He was covered in them. He sometimes retreated into his own mind, and stayed there for days on end. Other times he forgot where he was. She could see it everytime it happened. His eyes glazed over and his hands stopped drawing patterns on her skin. There was no obvious solution, Darcy simply wrapped herself around him and waited it out. The longest it had gone on for was for three whole days. She still remembers how hard she cried when he came back to himself.

But she always knew that he would come back to her.

James however, saw Darcy as the best thing that ever happened to him. When he was with her, she was all he could think about. He could spend hours just dragging his fingers over her soft, soft skin.

Oh God, she was the softest little thing he'd ever touched. She had soft curves for days and wasn't scared to touch his metal arm. He would do anything for her. No matter what he didn't know about himself - which was pretty much everything - he knew that for a fact. Deep in his bones, he would do anything for Darcy. His Darcy.

"Oh my God, you are so infuriating!" She shouted at him.

"At least I know how to read a map." He snarked. Darcy leapt onto his back.

"You do not know how to read a fucking map! Liar." He swung around, trying to throw her off.

"Yes I do! You were reading it upside down!" 

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

Their bickering ended abruptly when James tripped on his own foot and fell over. He deftly twisted his body beneath Darcy's and cushioned her fall.

She groaned into his shoulder. "Now look what you did." She said, her voice muffled.

"You're the one who jumped on my back munchkin." He said, wrapping his arms around her, content to just lay there for awhile.

"Don't make fun of my height." She mumbled.

"Excuse me, are you two okay?" A voice sounded from above them, matching the shadow that suddenly blocked out the sun. 

"Just fine, thanks." Darcy said, struggling to her feet. "Just my boyfriend not admitting that he can't read maps." James smoothly got to his feet and draped his arm over her, the sun sparkling off of the metal.

"I can read maps just fine, she just doesn't recognize where she is on one." Darcy turned away from the stranger to face him.

"You didn't know where we were either!"

"I did, you just didn't want to admit it."

"Ahem." The cough had them both turning back around to face the stranger. "I can give you directions if you need them." Darcy sighed in relief.

"That would be great thanks."

******

James spent the day making sure that the campus was safe whilst Darcy raved over all the different courses she could take and how much better it was than all of the other universities they had seen. The sky was now darkening and they had settled into a pub to get something to eat.

"Yum, you need to try this steak!" Darcy held out a forkful of steak for James to try. He took a bite, his eyes widening in surprise at how good it was.

"That's really good. If that's what we're eating every time I visit, than you should definitely come here." 

"I think I am going to come here, it's got the best courses available, plus it's not that far from home."

"That's always a plus." He said, devouring his own meal. After they leaned back into their seats, plates clean, Darcy's face lit up in a mischievous smirk.

"Considering that this is one of my final days before becoming a uni student." She started, leaning over the table with a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Maybe, we should buy some shots and get blind drunk."

He answered her with a smirk.

*****

Darcy woke up the next morning with an tattoo on her inner wrist, a headache to rival all headaches and an empty space next to her. 

James was nowhere to be found.

He wouldn't be found for the next four years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment on what you thought! Thanks for reading :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with Hydra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reading all of your comments and I have the biggest smile on my face! I want to thank everybody who took the time to read this, and especially to those who left me those lovely comments. I seriously can't stop grinning and I'm blaming you guys for that :)
> 
> As always, anything that you recognize doesn't belong to me.
> 
> Also, there is excessive swearing in this, so watch out.

It starts with Hydra.

It's not a gradual awakening, or a slow realisation. It hits him like a bullet to the head. He remembers.

He remembers her.

It starts when he travels the world, leaving a trail of destroyed Hydra bases and strongholds, each and everyone containing an unrecognizable pile of bodies. He finds files upon files about him. The Winter Soldier. Everything from his weight to his most recent kill. He carefully looks through each file and searches his mind for a memory, a feeling, a thought on what was in those files.

He never finds anything though.

He has no memory on anything in the files, even though all they match up to the information in every other hydra base he's been through.

He doesn't remember where he first got a tiny sliver of himself back, just that it was warm. Not warm enough to cause discomfort, but enough for there to be a thin bead of sweat on his forehead. He remembers looking through the millionth file when he read a name. The name of a small town in the middle of nowhere. It should mean nothing...Yet, it conjures up images of deep blue eyes and wire fences.

His eyes scrunch up in concentration as he digs into his memory, searching, scanning, but never seeing anything. He tries even harder, pushing himself as hard as he can, but it's useless. His mind is a piece of Swiss cheese; full of holes.

It's not much, but if it can lead to something about him, he'll do whatever he can to figure out. The Winter Soldier is tired of living with a tattoo that doesn't make sense and a permanent layer of fuzz covering his mind.

******

When all of the bases are destroyed and the Soldier has gleaned all the information he can from them, he travels to the small town in the middle of nowhere.

It's the Winter Soldier who enters the small town. But it's James who collapses to his knees in front of a wire fence surrounding a playground. 

******

It's still James when he's captured by The Man On The Bridge and taken into custody. It was James who put up a hell of a fight too. 

It was still James when, after being questioned for hours by The Man On The Bridge, said a single name.

"Darcy Lewis."

******

It's Darcy Lewis, however, who had had a shitty morning and wasn't in the mood for any 'Avengers Bullshit'.

******

"Janeykins! I don't care how close to a breakthrough you are, you're coming to breakfast!" Darcy ordered, expertly dodging around the flailing astrophysicist's hands and physically pulling her away from a machine. "You haven't slept or eaten since yesterday, come on." She tugged Jane harder away from the machine and eventually succeeded. Darcy found herself praising the Lord at times like these, that Jane only weighed about 90 pounds.

After bodily forcing her onto the elevator, Darcy cracked her neck. "Alright J, time for the difficult one." Ignoring the AI's sarcastic response, she walked through Jane's lab and into Hell.

Or, Tony's lab.

"Alright buttercup, we both know that you haven't eaten in three days and no amount of Itunes gift cards are going to stop me from pulling your head out of a suit and to the kitchen." She stood with her hands on her hips, in what she hoped was an intimidating pose.

"No can do tits." Came a voice from inside one of the Iron man suits. "I'm right in the middle of something." Darcy raised an eyebrow.

"Do I have to make you go through another sexual harassment seminar? You didn't stop complaining about the first one for weeks." Tony stepped out of the suit, wiping his hands on an oily rag.

"Calm down tits, no need to pull in the big guns. I just need to finish up and then I'll come down." He held out his hands in a surrendering motion as if it was the most innocent offer in the world. The innocent look in his eyes just made Darcy doubt him.

"No way. When you say 'finishing up'" She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers "You mean that you'll be up here for another twenty four hours before eating too much chinese food and passing out. But no, not on my watch. Either you get your ass downstairs and in the kitchen in the next five seconds or I'll call Pepper." Tony's eyes widened. "And Bruce!" She grins triumphantly, "To talk to you about taking care of yourself." 

He held his hands over his heart. "You wound me tits. You know I hate when Bruce and Pepper wear their 'I'm disappointing in you' expressions! Bruce looks like a kicked puppy and Pepper acts like I kicked the puppy."

Darcy smirks at him, knowing that she's in control here. "Better get downstairs quick then." He darts out of the workshop, but not before throwing his oily rag onto the floor. She sighs and stoops down to pick it up and return it to the table. Only to have oil smeared all over hands.

"Dammit Stark!" She swears aloud, trying to wipe the oil back onto the rag, but it only makes it spread onto her wrists. "Fuck!" She shouts, careful to keep her wrists away from her very new, very white top.

"Jarvis, could you get the elevator for me?" She asks the AI, focusing on holding her arms in front of her.

"Of course Miss Lewis." The elevator door open with a ping and she steps on. "What floor Miss Lewis?"

"Uh, the fiftieth please." The ride in the lift is quick and most of it is spent cursing Tony Stark and his future offspring. The doors open with another ding and she steps out only to be greeted by chaos.

Clint is at the stove, attempting to make... To make something. It's unclear as to what it is. Just that it should not be purple. Natasha is advancing towards Tony, brandishing a knife whilst Bruce watches on with an amused expression. Jane is scrawling on her arm with a pen, obviously not wanting to waste time finding paper. Whilst all this is happening, the kitchen is a mess, covered in dirty dishes and God knows what else, there's a fire in the waste paper basket and Thor is sat next to a pile of broken glass whilst happily munching his way through a packet of chocolate chip cookies. Darcy's chocolate cookies.

She hurries out of the elevator, oily hands forgotten, to grab the fire extinguisher and quickly puts out the fire. She then whirls around to push Clint out of the way and turn the stove off, if the smell of burning was anything to go by, she would rather turn the stove off than put out another fire.

She then gently pulls the knife out of Nat's hand, giving her an apologetic smile as she does so and marches directly towards Thor, pulling the pen out of Jane's hand on the way. Ignoring the Jane's protests, Darcy grabs what's left of her cookies from Thor. She then goes to the other side of the kitchen island and faces the Avengers.

Slamming down the knife and pen she begins shouting. "For fucks sake, you're adults, act like it! Nat, you are not allowed to threaten bodily harm to your teamates, yes even Tony. And Tony stop aggravating Nat! You know the rules. So do you Clint." She said, turning towards him. "We agreed, no more cooking in the communal kitchen. And Jane, work stays in the lab! No more taking notes anywhere you like, including your body! And Thor, those are my fucking cookies! I swear to God if I catch you eating them one more time I'm going to taser you so hard in the balls that you won't be able to make little asguardian blonde babies!"

She took a minute to catch her breath. "Now." She said in a much calmer voice. "What do you guys want for breakfast?" Darcy turned around to grab the frying pan filled with the strange purple goo and accidentally stepped on a piece of broken glass. Instead of crunching beneath her foot, the glass simply made her lose her footing, making her legs fly from underneath her and Darcy to fall on her back.

It wasn't that her back hurt, or her very new, very white top was ruined, or even that she was embarrassed that made her lose it. No, it wasn't any of those things. It was Tony's small, barely discernible snigger, that made her lose her mind.

"Motherfucker!" She screeched. "Fuck, fuckitty, bullshit, asshole, pussyassmotherfuckingcunt!" Her words sped up at the end, forming one giant word of offensiveness. "That is it!" She shouted, pulling herself up from the ground. "I am fucking done with this shit for the day!"

She ignored the bemused looks thrown her way and focused on getting vertical without slipping again. "Jarvis!" She shouted for him.

"Yes Miss Lewis?" Even the fucking AI sounded bemused, thought Darcy.

"Shut down the labs and the training rooms for today, passcode Citrus Lemon. Lock the overide password too." She spoke clearly and confidently and turned to face the shocked group with a triumphant look. "That's right bitches, no playtime for you until this kitchen is clean and someone has ordered me a replacement for this top." She stormed past them and back into the elevator. She glanced at herself in the mirror and shivered at the sight of a large purple splotch marring her shirt. 

******

Darcy had only just gotten comfortable in her Hulk pajamas when she hears a firm knock on her door. She swings the open with a glare, expecting a trio of angry scientists and pissed off assassin twins, instead she gets a stony faced Steve Rogers.

"Oh hey Steve. What can I do for you?" Given that he doesn't live in the tower, they're not exactly close, but he's always had a smile and a polite comment for her. So when he's practically glaring at Darcy, it throws her a bit off guard.

"How do you know Bucky Barnes?" He asks, his tone sharp. She peers at him in confusion.

"What, the Winter Soldier? I don't know him." Somehow, he manages to glare harder.

"Well he seems to think that he knows you."

"Wha-?" Is all she can get out before he's got the cuffs on her.

"You, Darcy Lewis, are under arrest for withholding crucial information." Darcy struggles futilely whilst he continues to read her her rights.

"Steve, what the fuck are you doing? It's me. Why are you doing this? I don't know shit about the Winter Soldier." The words tumble out of her mouth without her permission yet none of it makes an effect on Steve. He finished reading her the rights and was now physically dragging her towards the elevator. "Steve! Stop, what are you doing? Steve!" She continues screaming, all the way down the hallway and whilst they're waiting for the elevator to come up. The elevator opens with a ding to reveal the rest of the Avengers plus Jane.

Darcy lets out a panicked giggle. "Alright, that was very funny captain, now get these fucking cuffs off me." She starts feeling claustrophobic and weak. The end to this stupid prank couldn't come sooner. Steve doesn't budge though. "Seriously guys you got me, now take these things off of me." She takes in their confused expressions. "Guys?"

It's Natasha who takes the lead, as it always is. "Steve, what are you doing?" Her eyes drag over Darcy's cuffed form. "What has she done?" 

Steve stands as still as a statue behind her. "We found Bucky late last night." He speaks as if he's talking about the weather.

"I'm glad you found him." Nat says, still unsure as to where this is leading.

"He refuses to talk though, doesn't know who the fuck I am." The sound of America's golden boy swearing brings the truth home to Darcy, that this is not a joke and is very very real. "We've been questioning him for hours and he hasn't said a word. Except for one thing." He shakes my handcuffed wrists. "Her name."

Everybody stares at her with confused but suspicious looks. "I'm arresting her on suspicion of withholding vital information."

They silently step out of the elevator and let Steve drag Darcy on. "Guys, I don't know him! I don't know how he knows my name. Seriously, I'm not fucking lying. Please guys, you have to believe me!" She shrieks, getting truly desperate now. "You can't let him arrest me, I don't know anything! Please!" Her screams become hysterical now. "Jane! Janey! You know that I'm not with Hydra! You know that!" Tears fill Jane's eyes, and they're the last thing Darcy sees before the elevator doors close.

*****

"Any distinguishing marks?" The man in a suit asks her. Darcy reluctantly pulls the sleeve of her pajama top up to reveal her inner wrist. He peers at it closely. "What is that a tattoo of?"

"The letter J." She says quietly. She glances down at the bold slash of black lines that are etched into her skin. The two lines form the letter. It was simple, elegant and sometimes brought her to tears if she stared at it for too long.

After Steve had brought her to the sub levels of the Avengers tower, she had been put in an interrogation room and had been questioned for the past six hours. They had ignored her requests to speak to an Avenger, for a glass of water and for a bathroom break. She was pushing the edge of her limits.

The man in the suit abruptly left after making another note on his notepad. She had even stopped giving the suits nicknames after she had lost count of home many had come in to ask her the same questions, over and over. At least the distinguishing marks question was a new one.

She placed her head on the desk and closed her eyes with a sigh. She really just wanted to curl up in one of Tony's ridiculously expensive and comfortable beds and sleep for the next ten years.

She doesn't bother to look up when she hears someone come into the room. She does when she hears Steve speak. "Darcy Lewis, age 23, graduated from Culver University with a Political Science degree and an internship with one Doctor Jane Foster in the field of Astrophysics." She glances at the slim folder that he's reading from, but quickly looks back up at his face. It has a mean glare to it that she's never seen before. So does his voice. She tunes back in as he reads her entire life of of a single page.

"You grew up in the middle of nowhere, stayed there until you left for uni and then went straight onto Jane." He closes the file and rests his palms on the table, leaning towards her. "And I'm wondering, when and where could Hydra have possible gotten to you?"

She immediately shakes her head. "I'm not with Hydra."

His eyes narrow. "The how does the Winter Soldier - Hydra's greatest weapon - know the name of an astrophysicist's intern?"

"I don't know."

His face hardens further. "You do." He says with conviction. "And you're a double agent for Hydra." He punches the table in time with his sentences. "You were feeding information to them about Jane's research." He punches the table again. "And about us." Another punch. "And you were hiding the fact that you knew where Bucky was the entire time." A final punch forces the table to crumple in on itself. Darcy leaps away from the sudden crash and onto her feet.

"I'm not with Hydra!" She shouts for what feels like the millionth time.

"Stop lying to me!" He screams back.

******

The tower has all of the interrogator rooms lined neatly in one row. Each with a double mirror for agents and security to observe interviews. James is sat in the room next to Darcy's, using his serum enhanced hearing to listen to every single thing happening in that room. His body remains motionless whilst his mind races with possibilities.

Foremost on his mind, was joy. The absolute joy he felt knowing that his Darcy was as fiery and wild as ever and was only in the next room. The next thing on his mind was how to make it out of this situation without the Avengers arresting Darcy as a double agent for Hydra. His mind called up scenario after scenario of different solutions to the problem. After thinking them all through, he decided on the most effective one.

******

"Steve." Natasha pressed the button for the intercom. She was currently staring at Darcy being interviewed by Steve, and felt as tired as Darcy looked. "You're needed out here." Steve quickly left the room and was met in the hallway by Natasha. He raised his eyebrows in question.

"He wants to talk to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another cliff-hanger but it felt right to end it there. So what do you guys think? Is Steve being too harsh? What solution do you reckon James has come up with? And what do you think Darcy's tattoo means? And what do you think of the opening paragraphs about Bucky? Sorry for the feels #SorryNotSorry
> 
> Also, just to clarify, there is a deeper meaning to the tattoo, you will find it out soon I swear. I'm also wondering whether to give Bucky a matching one or not. You guys decide! Comment your opinions!
> 
> Don't forget to comment and thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Steve, this doesn't add up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw you guys!! I love reading your comments and your suggestions and needless to say, I'm pretty much in love with all of you. Deal with it.
> 
> And thankyou for your suggestions! They're some really good ideas and I'm going to shamelessly use them ;) Also, thanks for anyone pointing out plot holes so I can try and fix them as soon as possible!
> 
> Now, Darcy and James may reunite in this chapter...

"I'll go and see him. Maybe he's remembered something." The look in Steve's eye suggests that he doesn't hold much hope.

"Wait." Natasha says, grabbing onto his arm before he can walk away. He turns to face her and raises an eyebrow. 

"What?"

"Steve, this doesn't add up." His eyes narrow at her words. Natasha continues speaking, slowly and calmly, not wanting to provoke him when he's so volatile. "You read her file, there simply wasn't an opportunity for Hydra to get to her."

"I'll find it." His voice was coldly determined and his cheeks flushed pink in anger.

"No Steve." Natasha's voice rivals the arctic and allows no room for argument. "You won't. Because there wasn't one. She's been with Jane since her late teens and she's probably had a million chances to leak information or kill us if she was Hydra. Never mind the fact that she would've turned on us when S.H.I.E.L.D went down." Seeing him open his mouth to argue, she quickly pressed on. "I think you're hellbent on saving Bucky and somehow you thinks she's got an answer."

He turns away and slams his fist against the wall. "She does! How else would he know her name?" Steve whirls back around to face Natasha. "How?" He practically roars at her.

"There could be a million reasons Steve. She could've been a target for The Winter Soldier, or she could be someone her recognized from targeting us. Hell, he could've just said the first name that came to mind." Natasha's voice takes on a silent, sinister quality. It was clear that she didn't appreciate Steve's tone.

"Then why the hell would he remember some... Some intern's name and not mine?!"

"I don't know Steve."

He roars again. "Then how do we figure it out?"

"Steve I don't have the answers for you and neither does she."

"Fine then." His voice becomes quiet. "Let's just put them into a room together and see what happens. If that's what he wants so much, lets give him Darcy Lewis." He says bitterly. Her eyes widen in panic.

"He could kill her."

His eyes meet hers and she restrains herself from gasping. Natasha hasn't seen eyes that desperate since the red room.

"I. Don't. Care." Steve says each word with purpose, before turning away from her and moving to open the door to Darcy's interrogation room. Natasha reacts quickly and runs against the wall, jumping, she uses her right foot to propel herself against the wall and across the hallway, swinging her left foot at a perfect 90 degree angle to connect solidly with Steve's head. He collapses forwards only to slam his head off of another wall. 

He collapses at Natasha's feet with a solid thunking sound.

She quickly drops to her knees and checks his vitals. Satisfied that he wasn't dead, she neatly steps over his motionless body and swings open the door to find a shocked Darcy.

"You are now free to go." Natasha glances down at Steve and makes eye contact with Darcy. "Thankyou for your cooperation."

******

They stay there for another hour, mostly with Natasha apologizing for Steve. Things are tense, and Darcy's not entirely sure she wants to make it better. Natasha gives her a glass of water and offers her something to eat. Darcy declines.

"I just want to go back home." She says, although she's not entirely sure where home is right now. Her apartment of the Avengers tower lost it's homely feel as soon as cold steel closed around her wrists.

"Don't you want to see what caused all of this?" At Darcy's confused expression she began to clarify. "The Winter Soldier. You can see him through the double mirror if you want." Darcy nodded slowly, she didn't see a reason why she shouldn't. Besides, she was interested to see what he looked like and if she actually knew him.

Natasha lead her through a maze of corridors and stopped in front of a plain metal door. "It's just through here." She gestured for Darcy to go first. And what Darcy saw when she stepped through the door made her knees go weak.

Natasha caught her just before she collapsed to her knees. "Darcy? What's wrong?" She just shook her head and struggled back to her feet.

"Uh, nothing. I'm fine." She said, her voice breathy. She moved towards the clear glass, pressing her fingers against it as if she could push her fingers right through it. Darcy leaned heavily against the glass as her strength left her again.

"Darcy, are you sure you're okay?" Nat's voice sounded in her ears.

She turned to face her, panting slightly. "Can... Can I go in there? Please? Just for five minutes." Natasha's eyes widened.

"Do you know him?" Her voice was as sharp as nails.

Darcy waved her hand. "Um, I'm not sure. Can I just-?" She said, turning back to the window.

"Darcy. Do you know him?" Natasha asked again, her eyes trained carefully on her. "I defended you against Steve. If you are lying to me right now I don't think I'll be able to stop him."

She whirled to face Natasha. "I wasn't lying!" She turned back to the window. "I don't know The Winter Soldier. But...." She paused. "I knew James."

Natasha silently took her to the door leading to The Winter Soldier.

But it was James who leapt to his feet with tears in his eyes.

******

He couldn't believe it. It was Darcy, his Darcy.

His Darcy with the deep blue eyes dyed red with tears. His Darcy with a smile that was the complete contrast to the tears on her cheeks. James didn't even realise that he'd left his seat until she was in his arms.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He chanted into her shoulder, repeating it like a mantra. He presses as close to her as he possibly can.

She clings back just as hard. "It's okay. It's okay. I understand."

They part just long enough for Darcy to look up at him from beneath her eyelashes. That's enough incentive for James and he swoops down and presses their lips together.

*****

A freshly woken Steve glares at re-united couple through the double mirror, broken shards of glass litter the floor and blood drips from his palm. He grits his teeth and turns around leaving the room. He storms out of the tower, leaving behind fist shaped holes in the walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but I wanted to update it quicker for you guys! Leave a comment on what you think and what should happen next. Thanks for reading, I love you guys :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How could I let him take her?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been a very mixed response on the way I've written Steve, but I want to thank all of you who took the time to comment your opinion! Anyways, during this chapter I'll go through what the different Avengers were doing whilst Darcy was being questioned.... Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! :)

"How could I let him take her?!" Thor ducks as another beaker whizzes over his head. "She trusted me! How could I let her down like that?" Thor neatly side steps a Bunsen burner as it flies through the lab. "I acted like she was a Nazi for God's sake!" Thor agilely vaults over a microscope as it smashes into the wall.

"Jane." He says, before she continues shouting over him.

"Now she's down in interrogation, thinking that I abandoned her!"

"Jane, my love."

"Which I did! I abandoned her after she's been with me for two years! I'm the reason she even came to this bloody tower!" Another beaker smashes into the ground.

"Hey! Don't insult the tower!" Tony says, walking into the lab. He slowly spins, taking in the destruction. Jane stands in the middle of a room covered in broken glass and damaged science equipment. He whistles lowly. "Damn Foster, you really should keep your lab organised."

"What do you want Tony?" She glowers at him. 

He shrugs. "Just to show you something about Darcy." Jane's by his side in an instant.

"What about Darcy? Is she okay?" Tony carefully dislodges her nails from his skin.

"I don't know whether she's okay or not, but I do know that Jarvis can go through The Winter Soldier's list of missions and see whether any of them put him near Darcy at anytime." He awkwardly shrugs. "I figured you should be here when I first looked at the answers.

Jane's eye's fill with tears and Thor wraps his arms around her. His voice rumbles throughout the room. "My lady Jane and I thank you for trying to protect Lady Darcy" His mouth turns downward in a deep frown. "Although I should have stopped Warrior Steven from taking her in the first place." He bows his head. "I will not make such a mistake again."

Tony stares at the unhappy couple and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. "Um, yeah. That's... Okay, let's watch it."

******  
"How are you going along with this Nat?" Clint quickly signed at her, his hands gesturing wildly.

"The Winter Soldier said her name! What else am I supposed to do? Rule out a possible clue just because it's Darcy?" Natasha signed back just as quickly, both wearing matching expressions that were so still that they could have been carved out of stone.

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do! You can't just let Steve arrest who he wants, you know that he's not in his right mind at the moment."

They were stood in the elevator with Bruce, minutes after Steve had arrested Darcy.

"I know that he's not in his right mind at the moment, that's why I'm trying to help him!" Natasha signed, attempting to explain herself.

"By letting him arrest Darcy? You shouldn't set her on fire just to keep him fucking warm Nat." It was the slipped in curse that made Natasha lose her ice cold composure. Her face contorted into a venomous glare.

"She must know something! I'm not saying that she is Hydra, but she has to know something!" Her hands moved so fast that they were a blur to Bruce, who was attempting to press himself even further into the Elevator wall.

Clint took no notice and replied to Natasha just as quickly. "What if it's just a coincidence? What if he just knows her name because she was a target? Or because she's related to us and we were targets? Maybe he just remembers her from some Hydra thing that she has absolutely nothing to do with? There are so many possibilities Nat! Not everyone is a fucking double agent!"

Somehow, Natasha managed to glare harder. This time around, Clint cracked and glared back. Natasha's hands moved even quicker. "That's why were questioning her! To find out if it is some big coincidence!"

Clint ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "You saw the look on Steve's face! He's not going to let her go until she has answers and what will he do if she doesn't have any? Anything to do with Bucky and the captain loses his shit. Mr Calm and Composed has finally lost his cool and Darcy's bearing the brunt of it, because of you!" Clint signed angrily.

"That wasn't just my fault Clint! I wasn't the only one to let him take her!" Natasha signed back with rage in her eyes.

"Well I fucking trusted your judgment! And you know everyone else was going to follow you, so if you didn't want Steve to take her then he wouldn't have been able to, would he?" Clint turned away and slammed his fist into the wall as the doors dinged open.

"Um, could I get past please?" They both stepped out of the way without looking at each other. Bruce quickly nudged past them and darted out of the Elevator into the penthouse. As soon as the doors closed they stood in awkward silence for a few seconds before Natasha ruined the silence.

"Jarvis, stop the elevator." And they were on each other like ravenous wolves.

Clint pressed Natasha against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. He ground his hips into hers and grabbed her hair into his fist. She tore open his shirt and sunk her teeth into his neck. 

When questioned later about the strange sounds coming from the elevator, they would simply smirk at each other.

*****

Bruce darted out of the elevator, eager to escape the simmering tension in the small space. He smiled in relief when he saw a tired Pepper reclining in an armchair, her shoes neatly lying next to the sofa. "Hey Pep."

She grinned tiredly at him. "Hey Bruce." 

He sat down on the footrest in front of her and pulled her feet into his lap. Pepper sighed and relaxed back into the chair. Foot rubs from Bruce were the best foot rubs. Her spine tingled as he dug his thumbs into her heels and worked out the kinks. 

She leaned back into the headrest and her eyes fluttered shut. "Where's Tony?" She asked dreamily.

"He's just in the middle of freeing Darcy from imprisonment that Steve has unfairly forced her into."

"Oh really? Why aren't you joining him?" Pepper said dreamily, sighing again when Bruce moved his fingers just so.

"Oh you know, don't want my blood pressure too get too high and turn into a giant rage monster. Especially since I don't want to see whether the Hulk can kill Steve."

"Oh, that's nice." She said, slowly slipping into sleep.

Bruce smiled sadly at her.

****

"Hey Nat?" 

"Yes Tony?" She asked, turning around to face him.

"I've sent you some files on The Winter Soldier's mission. They don't match with where Darcy was during her life. There's nowhere they could've possibly met. Tits is off the hook."

Natasha's jaw tightened and Tony took a step backwards. "I'll go call off Steve."

"Hey Nat?" She didn't turn around.

"What?"

"Next time you and Hawkass have sex in the elevator make sure you ask Jarvis to turn off the cameras first." He was running away before she could throw a glare at him.

****

"They took you from me. They stole my memories." Darcy and James were curled around each other in the corner of the interrogation room, James shielding her from the double mirror.

She pressed her hand against his cheek. "I know. It's okay. You came back to me. You remembered and that's what counts." 

"I still don't remember anything though. Nothing about... Before. Only you." He nuzzled into her neck. "You bring me back each time." He paused. "How did you end up here?"

She nuzzled right back into him. "Whilst I was at Culver, I needed six science credits to finish my degree. So I did an internship with Jane - she's an astrophysicist. I was there when Thor crash landed on Earth. Since witnessing a God coming to earth for the first time is a once-in-a-lifetime event it sorta made us besties for life. So I followed her to London when the Alien thing happened. After that we got an invite from Tony Stark to come here and use his labs, I tagged along and now I'm a glorified baby sitter for the Avengers." She paused. "Well I was. Since they accused me of Nazism I'm not so sure about my job status."

James wiped away a stray tear. "Who cares about job status? You can get a job anywhere." He stared away from her. "You still got your memories, that's something to be thankful for. You're not broken."

Darcy grabbed him by his chin and pulled his face towards her. "Listen to me. You are not broken. I don't care what you think is missing from you, you are still James. My James. And to me you are complete." She pulled him in for another kiss. "And if you wanted help, I know a telepath."

He pulled away to look at her. "A telepath?" He echoed.

"Someone who can read minds." She clarified. "She's totally trustworthy. If you wanted she could see if she can find your memories."

He tightened his hold on her and his voice came out quiet. "Can she really do that?"

She nodded emphatically. "I'll be there the entire time, so you don't have to be afraid."

He nods slowly. "I'm not sure doll. I'm not entirely sure that I want somebody else poking around in here." James tapped his forehead gently.

"It's entirely your decision, I'm not going to make you do anything." 

"You'll be there the whole time?"

She grinned. "I promise."

He leaned back against the wall, bringing Darcy with him. "Arrange it then doll."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... Let's summarize what I've created for my own peace of mind.  
> Jane and Thor are going to make it up to Darcy.  
> Tony figured it out for Natasha.  
> Who had a very angry conversation with Clint, followed by even angrier sex.  
> Bruce gives good foot rubs.  
> And James agrees to get help.
> 
> You like?
> 
> Special thanks to Witchbaby for leaving those detailed comments! I always look forward to reading them and they give me inspiration for future chapters as well as help me fill plot holes. Seriously, thankyou so much!
> 
> So guys, comment on what you think and thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Natasha, I'm not answering anymore questions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I changed Darcy's tattoo from a bird to something that's even cheesier and I changed where it was on her body. Go back and check out the update, it's only like two sentences that I changed. Anyways, in this chapter a lot of things happen, and you get to meet the telepath!

"Natasha I'm not answering anymore questions." Darcy said firmly. "Now get out my apartment." It was a sign of how sorry she was that Natasha simply slipped away wearing an apologetic expression. 

Darcy sighed and began packing a hulk themed overnight bag with a few of her clothes. She figured that she would pack the essentials and send someone to get the rest at a different time. Idly packing toiletries into a separate bag she picked up her phone and dialed. It rang for a few seconds before somebody answered.

"Ruth's Roadside diner, you kill 'em, we grill 'em. this is Olympia speaking." A bored voice sounded over the phone.

"Lym? This is Darcy."

"D?" The voice suddenly laughed over the phone. "Boy are you in some trouble. How'd you land the gig at the Avengers? Wanna hook me up with some StarkTech? And who's the hottie with the emotional baggage?" Darcy sighed into the phone; she'd forgotten how exhausting it was to talk to Olympia.

"Hey!" The voice turned indignant. "You're calling me to ask for a favor! At least try to flatter me first!"

"Sorry Lym, I just forget sometimes."

"Sure you do. Anyway, when do you want me down there? Now? Shit, that's totally gonna cost you extra." Olympia said, an evil smirk in her voice.

Darcy sighed again. "How much you thinking?"

"You know the drill D, five hundred bucks a pop, plus my hotel bill obviously."

Darcy sighed heavily. "You totally overcharge by the way, but I'll pay your fee. You better get your ass down here in the next twenty four hours."

"No problem D, I'm telling my boss as we speak." 

"Alright, thanks Lym." The line went quiet for a few seconds before Olympia came back, probably letting her boss know.

"Just don't forget to pick me up from the airport okay? I'll be landing in about four hours, so you better be there."

"I won't forget. Just get here as soon as you can."

"Don't worry, I already got my shit packed from my last job so I'm literally out the door as soon as I let my boss know."

"Okay, I'll be there when you land."

"Don't sound so sad about it D. I promise we'll get shitfaced at least twice during my stay." Before she could protest, Olympia abruptly hung up.

Darcy sighed again. "Shit."

******  
"Bruce we should just give her time." Tony's voice came out muffled from beneath the car hood. 

"I know, but I feel so bad." Bruce was laying down horizontally in the front seat with his feet hanging out of the window. "We should've stopped Steve."

"Yeah I know. But you didn't want to hulk out and I didn't want to go against America's golden boy when he was teamed up with the scarier of the assassin twins. We couldn't have done anything. But the best we can do now is give her some time and space."

"But what if she tries to leave the tower or move out or something. I mean, getting arrested by one of your own in a supposedly safe space has got to have ruined her sense of security. What if she does try to move out?"

Tony's muffled voice sounded out again. "Jarvis will tell me if she tries to leave the tower. Don't worry Bruce, J will keep an eye on her."

Bruce lay in silence for a few seconds. "Will she ever forgive us?" Tony pulled his head from beneath the car hood and tiredly propped his head on his hands.

"Maybe. Eventually. We just gotta give her time."

******

"So she told you about James?" Natasha asked, wearing her usual frozen expression.

Jane, in response, gripped even tighter on Thor's hand. "Yeah, once."

"When?"

"When Thor left. We went up to the roof in Puento Antiguo and got completely plastered on margaritas. We talked about Thor for awhile and then I asked her if she'd ever been in love. Then she told me about James. I didn't know it was The Winter Soldier though, I don't think she did either."

"Did she say how she met him?" Natasha asked.

"She said that he protected her from bullies when she was little and just kept turning up out of the blue."

"When did she last see him?"

"Just before she started uni. Apparently they were touring Culver campus and she woke up the next day and he was gone." Jane looked at Natasha pleadingly. "Is she okay?" She asked tentatively. 

Natasha's mouth drew into a thin line. "I'm not sure, she won't talk to me anymore."

"I tried as well, but Jarvis blocked everybody from her rooms."

"We should just give her time and let her know that we're here when she needs us."

"Okay." Jane leaned back into Thor, who was stood over her almost like a watchful protector. "Is she still going to be questioned?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, your stories match and we have no reason to not believe her."

"And what's going to happen with James? Are you still holding him?"

"Yes, but we've got a couple people coming to do a psychological evaluation on him, to see if it's safe for him to be around people."

Jane nodded. "Is that all the questions you have for me?" Natasha nodded affirmation and immediately after Thor scoops up Jane and carries her back to their floor.

******

"What the fuck do you mean I can't leave?" Darcy shouted, pacing in front of her apartment. Clint stood in front of her with his arms folded.

"Sorry Darce, but we're worried about you. We don't think that you should be by yourself right now."

She spun around to face him. "Oh no Clint Francis Barton, you do not get to say that you're worried about me after you let me be fucking arrested!" She shouted, jabbing a finger against his chest. "And, I am a fully grown woman! I can go out by myself if I want to!" With that she stormed to the elevator. 

******

Darcy seethed within the comfort of her car all the way to the airport. She blasted her 'Fuck You' playlist on her Ipod and silently cursed all of the Avengers, most of all Steve. Angrily pulling into the first available spot, she clambered out of the car and power walked across the giant car park towards the main building. 

After making sense of the busy airport, she nudged her way through the crowd to stand near baggage claim. Sending a text to Olympia, she pulled out her phone and wasted time with updating all of her social media apps whilst she waited.

Thirty minutes later, a sharp cry pulled her attention away from her phone. "D!"

Looking up, Darcy saw Olympia. She waltzed - there was no other way to describe her walk other than as a waltz - through the crowd with a shit-eating grin. She had a lithe form and towered over Darcy at a 5'9. Dozens of bracelets jangled on her wrists that matched a multitude of necklaces hanging from her neck, that all clanked together as she walked. Her deep purple hair hung around her shoulder in a wild riot of curls and made her purple eyes sparkle. Everyone thought that she was wearing coloured contacts but a select few, Darcy included, knew the truth.

Swamped in an over-sized cardigan and a loose knee length dress, she seemed to glide towards Darcy. "Hey D." She said, thrusting a large bag covered with beads at her. "You're just in time." She leaned in close to Darcy and gently traced the tattoo on her wrist. "My, my D. You have been busy." Her eyes seemed to glow dully and her face lit up in a cat like smirk. Darcy quickly yanked her sleeve down from where it had ridden up and grabbed onto her bag.

"Come on. I'll take you to your hotel." 

Olympia sent her another smirk and brushed past her, walking in the perfect direction. All eyes in the room followed her every step. Used to the attention, she just smiled and threw her shoulders back. Darcy sighed and followed after her.

Suddenly, Olympia took a detour from the exit and glided into a nearby ladies room. Darcy huffed but walked in after her to see Olympia sat on the counter between two sinks. Once Darcy was inside, she leapt up and locked the door.

Darcy glared at her. "Lym, what the fuck are you doing? Right now I just want to drive to the hotel and crash before meeting up with James."

Olympia turned around and leaned against the door before baring her teeth at her. "You should know that I have your best interests at heart D." She held her hands clasped over her heart. "How could you doubt me so? I'm just trying to protect you from the person following you!"

"What?" Darcy's eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

Olympia's eyes twinkled. "Oh you know, someone's been following you since I got here. Probably even before that."

"How did you-" Darcy's question faded out as Olympia gently tapped her head. "Oh." She paused. "Can you get a read on them?"

"I'll try." She closed her eyes. "And D?" She said her eyes remaining shut. "Please try to stop breathing so loudly. I would've thought that The Black Widow had taught you to be stealthy by now." Darcy's eyes narrowed and she abruptly started breathing through her nose. "Thank you."

Darcy stared as Olympia's breathing slowed and her head slowly fell back. "Okay, I'm searching for them." Her voice took on a distant and dreamy quality and it felt like talking to Darcy was a mere afterthought. "I'm scanning through the main hallway now. There's so many people." She let out a sultry laugh. "D, it's so beautiful. You wouldn't even believe."

Her shoulders drooped and her arms slowly fell to her sides, hanging loosely. "I think I'm getting close, I recognize their mind." Her head snapped up suddenly. "Got him."

"Who is it?" Darcy asked quickly, getting increasingly worried as Olympia's lax face turned worried. "What is it?"

"I'm in their head... Oh my God D... It's so dark. It's twisted. It's... I can't even explain it." Her entire body suddenly tensed up and her arms stretched out to her side. "It's like a black hole, I can feel myself being pulled closer..." Her voice turned afraid, losing it's dreamy quality. She slowly got louder and more urgent. "It's pitch black. I can't see anything.... Except that. What is that? It's a metal chair... But there are straps on it. That chair is so cold....." As if on cue, goosebumps broke out along Olympia's skin. "Why is it so cold? There's a machine behind it... I don't want to go near that machine D." Her voice turned be quiet. "That machine does bad things..."

"Move away from the machine Olympia! Move away from the chair!" Darcy said urgently, grabbing onto one of her arms.

"Okay... I'm moving away from the chair..." She lifted her free hand to grab at her head. "It's all changing." She sounded out of breath. "I'm in an alleyway somewhere.... There's a guy leaning against the wall... He's bleeding D and he's really small... Ill. I want to help him... I'm getting really protective feelings for him..." Her voice turned distant again. "Now I'm outside a playground.... There are children playing.... There's a little girl there... She's crying..... Why is she crying D? She shouldn't be crying.... I want to help her too... She's got such blue eyes." She breathed.

Olympia suddenly went quiet and her shoulders drooped again.

Her eyes opened and she pitched forwards. Darcy stepped forwards and caught her, careening for a few seconds before regaining her balance. Olympia sighed heavily against her. "Well that was fucking horrible." She said grumpily.

"Shit. Are you okay?"

"I will be." She used the counter and Darcy to push herself to her feet. She swayed for a second but waved Darcy away when she moved to help her. 

"Who the fuck was that?" Darcy demanded.

Olympia exhaled heavily and blearily rubbed her eyes. "I only got one name... James."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? I wasn't entirely sure about Olympia's telepathic moment but I freakin' love her! And thankyou so much for all the well wishes, the comments and advice! I love you guys so much! So comment what you think (especially on Olympia) and thankyou for reading! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Darcy..."
> 
> "Shut up. You are not allowed to talk to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth for a while there, got some shit going on at home but I'm back bitches! Thanks for reading!

"Darcy..."

"Shut up. You are not allowed to talk to me." James sighed and stared out of the window again, as Darcy glared rigidly ahead. Olympia lazed in the backseat, grinning at James whenever he met her eyes in the rearview mirror. 

"You know that I wanted to keep you safe." Darcy fixed him with a deep scowl.

"Keep me safe? Keep me safe?" Her voice reached a hysterically high pitch. "I was going out for an hour tops, and you had to follow me? That is not keeping me safe! What's keeping me safe is the million cameras in an airport and my car when I'm not being stared at by millions of cameras! You didn't need to stage a fucking breakout to keep tabs on me!"

James slammed his metal hand against the dashboard, smashing it.

"Motherfucker!" Darcy screamed. "What are you doing!"

"I just fucking lost you!" James shouted, ignoring her protests as she checked the damage. "Do you understand that? Every single time I had you, I fucking lost you again! They took you from me and I couldn't do a single thing about it! Now I have you again, and I don't have to." His voice turned quiet. "I don't have to lose you again." He grabbed her jaw roughly and turned her to face him. "And if making sure that I don't ever lose you again involves breaking out of a cell in order to make sure that you're okay, then I'll do it. I'll do it every single fucking time."

He gently wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks. Olympia slowly clapped from the backseat and Darcy pulled away from James.

"Jesus James, that was b-e-a-utiful!" She drawled. "You really bagged a good one here D! No wonder you wanted me down here quick, you want your boy to be shiny and new!" She burst into sultry chuckles.

"Fuck off lym." Darcy whispers, staring ahead again. 

*****

Darcy quickly crept through the main common room, silently gesturing for them to follow her. James, of course, complied easily and walked silently. Olympia strode after her, high heeled boots clacking against the ground. Darcy turned to face her with a glare, but she simply shrugged.

"They already know we're here." Olympia said as Natasha stepped out of the kitchen, Clint on her heels. Tony, Bruce and Pepper glided out of the elevator and Sam and Steve stepped out from behind them. Jane and Thor came out from the living room with apologetic smiles.

"Well lookie here! The whole gang's together!" Olympia exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. This earned her a selection of confused glares. She strolled up to Steve and draped her arms over his shoulders. He shivered beneath her hands. "Wow soldier, you really grew up." She purred.

He grabbed her by her wrists and yanked her away from him. "Who is this? Is she safe to be here?"

Darcy scrubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes. "Of course she's fucking safe Steve. I'm not going bring in just anybody in from the street. Let her go." Olympia sent him a cat like grin as he released her. She stretched up onto her toes and leaned in close to his ear.

"Don't worry soldier, I don't bite.... Unless you ask." She gently nipped at his ear lobe before pulling away. Tony stared at her in disbelief.

"I think the hippie just popped Captain's cherry."

Olympia sent him a sly wink. "I wish. You should probably talk to Allison from marketing about that." Steve froze whilst Tony whistled lowly. 

"Nice one Cap. She's got a great set of-" He cut off with a yelp when two people viciously pinched him.

"How did you know that?" Steve demanded, slowly blushing. She merely smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Seriously Darcy, who is this?" Sam asked, casually stepping in front of Steve, smoothly deflecting attention away from him.

"Yeah D. Aren't you going to introduce me to your family?" She put extra stress on the final word. Olympia drifted closer to Natasha and Clint, almost like she wasn't aware of it. Darcy quickly pulled her back to her side, keeping her hand firmly over her arm.

"Stop it Lym." Darcy said, once she began moving towards the assassin couple again.

"Their minds are just so... Interesting." She said with a sigh. Natasha tensed. "So exciting." She pointed towards them. "Especially theirs. Tell me Nat, do the others know that Coulson is alive?" Everyone regarded them with shock. Natasha suddenly lunged, Clint only barely managing to hold her back. "How about you Clint? You knew too right?" Clint bristled whilst Olympia giggled.

"Lym. Stop it." Darcy's voice held warning which Olympia promptly ignored. She turned to face Tony, Pepper and Bruce, her purple eyes letting out a shine.

"Oh these three are almost as fun." She glanced at Darcy. "What do you think D? Do you reckon that Tony and Brucykins know that Pep was double dipping on them before she got a good old fashion threesome going?" Tony paled and Bruce's normal brown eyes turned green. Pepper looked like she was about to be sick. "Well Tony knew. But nobody told poor Brucy." Bruce swayed on his feet, like he was about to faint. He stumbled away when Tony tried to steady him.

"And let's not forget the good old captain. I think that he's my favourite." Darcy sharply yanked on her arm. Olympia had a far away look in her eyes, making it easy to ignore her. "We all know that Steve loves Bucky. But does anybody know how much?"

"Stop." Steve's face had turned ashen. 

"But where's the fun in that?" Olympia purred. She faced the other avengers, who were stood in various positions of shock and anger. "I think Stevie here had more than friendship in mind when he hunted down dear old James." 

Olympia giggled at his expression before she drifted over to stand in front of Thor and Jane. She appraised them coolly, whilst Jane glared at her defiantly. Lym leaned in close with a small smile.

"You guys actually want to protect D, so don't worry, you're secret is safe with me." Her eyes flickered downwards, resting on Jane's stomach before she winked.

Darcy suddenly snapped, roughly grabbing her arm, she dragged Olympia to the elevator, barely noticing James following them. The doors slid shut, hiding the destruction laying behind. "Why would you do that?" Darcy didn't bother trying to hide the shaking in her voice.

Olympia whirled on her, her eyes flashing, almost spitting out flashes of purple light. "Because D..." She drawled. Her features had an ethereal cast to them, making her seem otherworldly. "They fucked you over. They left you alone. They abandoned you. And no one deserves to be abandoned by their fucking family."

Darcy recognized the pain in Olympia's eyes, and wisely said nothing. She just pulled her and James after her when they reached her floor.

*****

"Goddammit Bruce! Open the door!" Tony slammed his fists against the metal door again, whilst a worried Pepper waiting anxiously behind him. 

"Bruce we're sorry!" She shouted, wringing her hands.

They sighed when a voice sounded through the door. "Just leave me alone."

*****

Natasha and Clint sat in the center of their king-size bed cradling each other in their arms.

"We fucked up." She whispered. He just nodded into her hair.

*****

Steve wiped the sweat away from his forehead as another punching bag hit the floor. He walked over to the store cupboard and dragged out another one.

He hung it up with a sigh before taking another swing.

******

Jane, Darcy and Olympia sat on the floor, leaning against the bottom of the sofa. They passed a large bottle of Russian vodka between them. Darcy had stolen it from Natasha a week ago and was now intent on emptying the entire thing. 

None of the women commented when Jane stuck to drinking soda. Darcy just gently rubbed her stomach and smiled at her. 

She crooned with laughter as they slowly got drunker whilst watching Dance Moms. Jane and Olympia giggled along with her whilst James reluctantly made Margaritas in the kitchen.

*****

Hours later James carried the three of them into Darcy's room. He gently brushed a strand of dark hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. Turning the light off, he quickly walked through her apartment, making sure all of the windows were shut and locked. He turned off the lights as he went. 

It was James who walked into the kitchen.

But it was The Winter Soldier who pulled a knife when a voice sounded through the room.

"Stand down soldier." The voice was soft yet cold. "I just want to see if you're good enough for my sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep.... I'm gone for ages and then I leave you with a cliff hanger.... #Sosnotsos
> 
> So whaddya think? Any improvements I could make? What did you think of Olympia's little tantrum? Any opinions on the Avengers dirt? Who could Darcy's sibling be? Any guesses?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Any feedback, good or bad, is always good so don't forget to comment! I love you all and I hope that you've had a nice day :) Peace out.
> 
> (I'm not sure why I said peace out.... Let's just go with it...)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy woke to light spilling through her bedroom and the scent of pancakes tickling her nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated this chapter! I've got the next couple of chapters mapped out. Enjoy :)

Darcy woke to light spilling through her bedroom window and the scent of pancakes tickling her nose.

"Motherfucker!" She growled, clawing at the bedspread in a desperate bid to hide beneath it. She yanked at it only to hear a muffled cry as a body hit the floor.

"Motherfucker!" A loud voice cursed. "Somebody turn off the fucking sun!" Another cry filled the air as Darcy pulled at the bedspread again.

"Motherfucker!" Jane's usually quiet voice was now a pained groan. "Why is someone hammering into my skull?!"

Darcy ignored their groaning and buried herself in the covers, grabbing her forehead in a vain attempt to stave off the pounding headache. She cursed a blue streak when the blankets were sharply pulled from her grasp. James stood over her with a shit-eating grin, the blankets dangling from his hand. She lunged for them, but collapsed halfway when the pain in her head spiked.

"Rise and shine sleepyheads! I made pancakes!" 

"Fuck you." Lym snarled. James smiled back eerily.

"The last person into the kitchen is going to do laps around the track in the gym for an hour whilst the rest of us eat breakfast."

Darcy gaped. "You're bluffing." James merely whistled a small tune as he slipped out of the room. Jane, Olympia and Darcy shared a long look before diving towards the door.

After a mad scramble of knees, elbows and the occasional headlock, the three women stumbled into the kitchen, each wincing as they nursed their rapidly developing bruises. Jane gasped when she saw who was stood in front of her.  
In a shiny new suit that still hung on his sickly frame, Coulson gave her a small smile that was interrupted by Darcy's piercing screech. 

"Phil!" She leapt at him, wrapping her body around him as much as physically possible. He, despite his obvious frailty, caught her easily and supported her as he smiled into her neck. She pulled her head away and grinned down at him. "You didn't you tell me you were coming to visit!"

"It was a surprise." He grinned back. Jane continued staring in confusion. Coulson had never smiled in front of her. Ever. 

"Well I'm surprised! But you still should have told me! I haven't seen you in ages, you jerk!" She said back, lightly punching his shoulder. He gently lowered her to her feet before opening his arms to Olympia, who slid into to them gracefully, as if her hair wasn't a birds nest and she didn't have bloodshot eyes.

"Cousin dearest, illness looks good on you." She smirked up at him.

"I should get stabbed by alien God's more often then, shouldn't I?" he murmured back, just enjoying the sensation of being surrounded by family.

Jane awkwardly coughed, not sure whether she should interrupt or not. Darcy smiled at her and grabbed her arm, dragging her over to Coulson. "Janey, meet agent Ipod Thief, aka, my brother."

Jane stared, still confused. "But, wait, didn't you say that you had no family?"

Darcy nodded. "Well, technically I don't. Me and Phil met in foster care when I was five and he was twenty five. He was an assistant carer. He looked after me and when he was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D, he just never stopped." She paused for a few seconds whilst she grabbed Olympia's hand. "And Lym is my actual cousin, her mother is sisters with my mother but they lived in England most of their lives. I didn't actually know that she existed until two years ago. But yeah, they're my family." She beamed at her, eagerly awaiting a response.

Jane swallowed before thrusting her hand out to a bemused Coulson. "I'm forgetting you as Agent Ipod Thief. Nice to meet you Phil." Phil's beam seemed to stretch to his ears.

"Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way, let's eat!" James led them to the source of the delicious smell.

******

An hour later, when James was showing Phil the tower's security and Olympia was taking a shower, Jane and Darcy's conversation was cut short by an urgent knocking. 

"Jarvis, tell whoever it is to wait a few minutes." Darcy said from her bedroom, stepping out of her pajamas and into some sweatpants.

"I'm afraid Captain Rogers is rather insistent that you hurry." Darcy barely stopped herself from snarling. She stomped into the living room only to be stopped by a livid Jane.

"Oh no you don't. If anybody is talking to that bastard it's going to be me!" With that Jane marched over to the door and cracked it open a notch.

"What do you want?"

Steve's nervous voice sounded through the door feebly. "Is Darcy in?"

Darcy almost felt the anger radiating from Jane.

"Why?" She asked sternly, sounding more like a demand than a question.

"I just need to talk to her."

"Steven Grant Rogers, you do not have the fucking right to waltz in here at this bloody time in the morning-"

"Jane it's one in the afternoon." He said bemusedly.

Jane carried on as if he hadn't spoken at all. "After arresting Darcy and keeping her contained for an entire day whilst you interrogated her! Fuck off!" With that, she slammed the door to a muffled curse from Steve.

Darcy flashed her a grin. "Cheers Janey."

Jane huffed and flung her hair over her shoulder. "What are best friends for?" Her smile soon turned to a frown when loud voices sounded from the hallway. "What is that?" She asked, turning around to face the door.

Darcy moved towards it. "I don't know." The voices grew louder and she vaguely recognized James' and Phil's. She quickly pulled open the door to find Phil holding Steve by his shirt collar against the wall.

James stood behind him, trying to talk him down.

"You are really walking a thin line Captain. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't get you relocated to the Arctic." Coulson hissed.

Steve hung there limply, not fighting back. "I just wanted to apologize Phil." He abruptly dropped him, and he landed with a thud, cracking the tiles underneath.

"Get out of here." Steve scrambled to his feet before moving to the elevator. "Hey." Steve turned around with a hopeful expression. "If anything like this happens again I will fucking ruin you." Coulson's face was expressionless and his tone cold. Steve nodded solemnly.

When the doors closed Darcy smacked Phil on the shoulder as hard as she could.

"Hey! What was that for?" He shouted, grabbing his shoulder.

"We talked about this! You can't just threaten anybody who fucks with me Phil. I can take care of it myself. Besides," She shrugged "Janey already scared him away." Jane smiled proudly.

"Yep, middle named him and everything."

"Shoulda seen it James, even you would've wet yourself at her voice." Darcy said, jabbing him affectionately. 

"Glad I wasn't here then doll, even I don't want to see Jane's angry voice." He said, pulling Darcy into her arms. Olympia picked that moment to make an entrance.

"Alright D, I've called in reinforcements." She sent them a small grin. "Time to sort your boy out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment on what you think! Feel free to take a guess at who the reinforcements are :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's hands soothed over his shoulders, gently rolling out the kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been rubbish at updating this, but here is the new chapter, finally! Hope you enjoy :)

Darcy's hands soothed over his shoulders, gently rolling out the kinks. James felt himself relax into the bed even more. 

They were currently in Darcy's room, with him lying flat on the bed, his shoulders resting on Darcy's thighs. She was leaning her back against the headboard and was gently massaging him into an even deeper state of relaxation.

"I'm not so sure that this is a good idea, doll." James muttered, enjoying the feel of her hands on his body. Darcy gently stroked his hair away from his forehead and softly shushed him.

"It'll be fine James. Professor Xavier and Wanda are supposed to be the best and I know that Olympia will keep you safe. You won't be in any danger." She soothed. James reached up to lightly stroke her cheek.

"S'not me I'm worried about doll. What if I remember something bad, and I hurt you?" His mouth was pulled downwards in worry.

"That's why I asked Steve here. He'll protect me if something goes wrong." Although the words felt sour in her mouth, she knew that Steve would stop James if he had to. It was the only reason that she could work up the courage to talk to him, to make James feel better.

He frowned at her. "You sure about that doll? He ain't had the best track record for lookin' after you."

"He was a dick for a while there." She agreed. "But I doubt that he would just watch me be hurt." James didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway, taking her word for it. "You ready to let everybody in?" She asked, massaging his temples.

He nodded slowly. 

"You sure? You know you don't have to do this." Darcy said, noting his uncertainty. James shook his head.

"No doll. Bring 'em in. Just..." He paused, grabbing her hand. "You'll stay with me right?" She pulled his hand up to her lips and pressed a kiss against his palm.

"I'm not ever going to leave you." She slanting her lips against his in a tender kiss before slowly pulling away. "Olympia!" She called. "We're ready."

*****

"I need you to breathe James." Professor Xavier said, gently pressing two fingers against James' temple. "Relax."

He was a lot younger than Darcy had expected him to be, with thick, dark hair and a gaze that stared into her soul. He still had the wheelchair though, which was the first thing she had noticed when he was wheeled in by his coworker Eric Lehnsherr. "You can call me Eric." He had said with a wink.

Darcy had restrained herself from threatening him and merely smiled faintly at him. James had a lot more to say though, swearing at him before asking Olympia if he had to be present for this. It was Professor Xavier - "Call me Charles!" - who had answered though.

"Yes, he must be. I need somebody to ground me if I get too deep into somebody's mind. But," He added, sending a stern look to Eric, "He will behave himself." James finally relaxed, letting Darcy massage his shoulders again. Steve remain stoic in the background, impassively stood against the wall. Backup if anything happened.

Wanda, a pretty Sokovian who spoke fluent english, had followed them, accompanied by her brother, Pietro. At Charles' response she nodded.

"Yes, I agree. It is why I brought my brother. He..." She waved her hands, struggling for the right words to use. "Stops me from floating away." Her accent was thick, which Darcy found oddly charming. Wanda's brother nodded in agreement, his shock of white hair bouncing wildly.

Darcy glanced at Olympia, her brow furrowed. "Do you need somebody to ground you?" She bobbed her head in answer.

"Course I do D! That's why you're here."

"Also," Charles added, "Because James trusts you." Darcy squeezed his hand, and James squeezed back.

"Let's start." Olympia said, sitting on the bed next to James and grabbing his hand. Wanda gestured at Pietro, who handed her the chair that he had dragged in from the kitchen. She sat down before pulling up a trouser leg and resting her hand on his ankle. She balanced a notebook on her knees and her other hand was poised over it with a pen.

Charles reached over from the side of the bed and gently rested his fingers on James' temple. "The first thing we're going to do is to sort through your mind, and try to unlock your memories. If they're still there."

Wanda nodded. "Yes, if they have been hidden from you, we will find them." She promised.

Olympia glanced at Darcy. "D, if you want to join the ride, this is your opportunity."

Darcy stared at her, before looking down at James. "Would that be okay James? You can say no." He was looking decidedly more nervous now. ames

"It's fine doll." He said shakily, "There ain't nothing up there that I want to hide from you." He said, tapping his skull. Darcy inhaled heavily before nodding.

"Okay, I will. How do I...?" Olympia just grabbed her arm with the one that wan't holding onto James. 

"Now you'll see what we see. Be careful you don't get lost in there though."

"You leading the way Charles?" Wanda said, carefully closing her eyes. Pietro's hand laid against her shoulder, no skin contact, just an anchor. Eric's hand landed in the same place on Charles' shoulder, his smirk turned into a thin line.

Charles nodded too, closing his eyes. Olympia's fluttered closed, a dull purple light glowing through her eyelids as her breathing grew deeper.

"I need you to breathe James. Relax." He said slowly, his voice sweet like honey, and equally as thick. James slowed his panicked breathing. "Breathe with me James. In, and out. In, and out. In, and out." He repeated it softly, never stopping his breathing.

Darcy felt his chest move upwards and downwards in time with Charles's soft commands. She found herself breathing in time as well, unconsciously following the word of the professor. Soon everybody in the room had fallen into a state of relaxation, not quite awake, but not quite asleep.

Steve watched from the wall as everybody's chest rose and fell in time, silently inhaling and exhaling. Olympia's eyes glowed a deep purple whilst Wanda's seemed to spit out dim red lights that twirled and danced in the air before fading away.

Eric and Pietro held onto their charges shoulders, focusing intently on not making skin contact.

"We're going to enter your mind now James." Charles said, his voice taking on a gentle quality that grounded the others to his voice, without rousing them from the zen like state. "Keep breathing, and remember relax." He put extra emphasis on the final word, almost as if it were a command.

Darcy felt as she were no longer in her own body, but somewhere else completely. All she could focus on was the feel of James against her hand and Olympia's soft skin pressed into her own.

Suddenly there was cold. 

Snow was dipped in shadows and littered over an empty street. There was a bite to the air that hurt the lungs as she breathed in. A man hurried through the streets, protected from the cold with a thick winter coat. He had a pasty face with wire glasses that did little to flatter him, and everything to emphasize his large nose. Fog unfurled from his mouth whenever he exhaled and the snow crunched beneath his feet. The towering stone buildings on either side of him made his size even smaller than it was and cast a shadow over his face.

Darcy was floating over the street, silently drifting after the man, eagerly taking in every single detail of the scene beneath her. Charles' voice pulled her back to the ground.

"James, where are we?" She heard him mutter in Russian, his muscles tensing beneath her hand. She assumed that was the answer and hoped that Wanda had written it down. Charles carried on talking. "What is this man to you?" James muttered something in Russian again, his tone cold.

Darcy felt another presence in the corner of his mind. "Thankyou James." Wanda said, her voice close.

The man stopped instantly, scrambling on the ice. Another man had stepped out onto the street, this one wearing a muzzle that covered half of his face and no coat. His feet were bare yet the cold didn't seem to affect him. Silver gleamed dully under the streetlamp. One arm raised and the sound of a gunshot pierced the silence. The scene froze suddenly, before melting away into another one.

It was eerily similar, a man walking on a snow covered ground at night. The only difference was the man and the buildings surrounded him. Charles asked the same questions and James rapidly said something in a different language. The second man stepped out again, coat-less and barefoot. He raised his arm again before Darcy felt the vibration of a gunshot in her bones. Wanda thanked him.

The scene was repeated thousands of times, each with a different man and setting, but the fear in their eyes was the same. Charles and Wanda repeated the same questions, James answering in a different language each time.

The next scene was different though, it was a long desert road coated in shadows. The muzzled man stood in the center of the road, his bare feet and lack of coat an ever present feature. Headlights lit up the road as a car sped down, far too quickly to stop in time.

Darcy stopped herself from shouting in horror when the car swerved to avoid hitting the man, but allowed herself to gasp when a middle-aged man that was all too familiar crawled out of the smoking wreck. The bare foot man marched over and grabbed the man's hair before slamming his skull into the ground, once, twice, three times. He then rose to his feet and looked up. Darcy met his eyes and shivered at how foreign they were.

When Charles asked the same question, James answered in English.

"Target: Howard Stark, Maria Stark. Mission complete. Asset ready to return."

"Thankyou James." Wanda said. Darcy felt like crying.

The scene melted away to a new one. This time it was a dark room, with only one source of light. Darcy glanced at it but quickly shifted her eyes away before she could be blinded. She blinked away the tears to see a metal chair stood in the center of the light.

Darkness picked at the edges of it, the light only barely keeping it away. The metal was rusted, clearly with age. It was straight backed and thick, leather straps were attached to the legs, arms and to the back. The muzzled man materialized into it, the straps automatically wrapping around his wrists, ankles and middle. They tightened down hard, leaving the man struggling to breathe.

Hands belonging to unseen men pulled at the muzzle, tearing it away from his face. Darcy cried out when she saw James beneath the mask, blood dripping from his mouth. His lips turned upwards in a grim smile, flashing his bloody teeth.

"I'm alright doll. Look." The cuts in his cheeks opened wide to reveal his blackened gums.

"Careful D." Olympia's voice whispered to her, although Lym was nowhere in sight. "His mind's a mess of traps, half forgotten memories and lies. Don't trust it, just let us three sort it out." James in the chair smiled wider, blood streaming down his face.

"Remember to keep calm Darcy." Charles' voice replaced Olympia's. "You're wondering through his mind, emotions all over the place. Your panic is influencing his mind, giving it the weapon to scare you. If you remain calm you can walk through as a spectator." Darcy breathed in deeply, slowing her panicked breathes and wiping away her tears. 

Once she felt her heartbeat slow, light filtered through the room, sterile and unrelenting. James' face healed up, returning to it's impassive state. He wore an empty expression, not reacting to the blinding light. Darcy struggled to keep her eyes open and focused on him. 

Three men in business suits surveyed him, listening to a man in a lab coat talk about James as if he wasn't there. James simply sat there in silence, his eyes dull and empty.

"The asset is the ultimate weapon. No emotions, no pain, no fear. Only the following of orders, precision and us." One of the men crouched down in front of James, staring into his eyes. He raised a hand in front of his face and waved it. When he got no reaction he moved a finger in front of James's eyes, giving him ample time to move away. When James didn't move, he flicked him directly in the eye. James's only movement was to blink.

The man straightened, chuckling. "You're right. There is no fear there." Another of the men gazed in wonder.

"He didn't even flinch."

"I told you," The scientist said proudly. "He'll only do something if he's ordered to. The asset was in the army before we found him, he's used to taking orders."

"Will he take orders from anybody?" One of the men mused, staring at James like one would an animal at a zoo.

The scientist shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. We've been training him to only take orders from a select group of people." He smiled at the other men. "Even Captain America wouldn't be able to make him do something if we didn't order it!" He joked, the other business men politely chuckling.

But they didn't notice James flinch. Darcy suddenly found herself right next to his face, as if she had zoomed in. She looked back at the men to see them moving backwards and moving their lips in unusual ways. Then they froze, before moving forwards in slow motion, lips slowly mouthing their previous conversation. She looked back at James to see his face as impassive as ever, before his expression abruptly transformed into one of shock. The scene around her froze and she felt Olympia's voice in her ear.

"Got it!" Then it was like the floodgates had opened.

Scene after scene of James and Steve growing up slid in front of her eyes. Both of them bundled up in coats and throwing snowballs in a busy park, sharing a plate of meatballs in a beat-up restaurant, sneaking into a movie theater with a girl on each of their arms. One after another, they played in a continuous stream.

One in particular caught her eye. James sat on a window sill, one hand holding a cigarette and a trail of smoke unfurling out of his mouth and into the open air. A bunched up sheet sat around his hips, low slung and barely covering him. His chest was bare and free of scars. Both arms were flesh colored and he wore a familiar smirk. A scrawnier Steve sat across from him, the same sheet barely keeping his modesty, bare-chested too. Several fresh hickies dotted their chests and necks. James's free hand was clasped in Steve's and he was caught in the middle of a laugh, familiar blonde hair mussed in a post-sex style. Both of their eyes were clouded in a haze.

Once she focused on that memory, similar ones wouldn't stop coming. The two of them in alleyways, in bathrooms, in their cramped apartment, in a forest with The Howling Commandos out of focus in the background. All in various stages of intimacy, a kiss, a hug, a light caress, hands clasped, naked, heads thrown back in passion. One thing remained constant though, the love in their eyes.

Most people mistook it for friendship, others for jealousy, some for protectiveness. But Darcy understood what it was. Love. She saw the same thing when she looked into James's eyes.

She felt Olympia slowly separate her from his mind, and back into her own body. She went willingly, having seen enough. When she opened her eyes she felt hazy, as if she was surfacing from a deep sleep. Exhaustion hung from her bones and she felt like collapsing. She glanced over to see Pietro carrying a sleeping Wanda out of the room, followed by Eric pushing Charles who was in a similar state. Steve was scooping up Olympia when James grabbed his arm.

"I remember." He rasped, sounding like his throat was made of sandpaper.

Steve looked at him in shock, as if everything else in the world had become a dull blur other than James. 

James closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly. Steve raised his eyes to meet Darcy's, which were red with tears. She smiled faintly at him.

"I remember it too." She said before darkness pulled her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually feel emotionally drained after writing that. Seriously didn't mean to write that, James's mind just took over.
> 
> Comment on what you think! Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Ruth


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired, I have an exam tomorrow that I've decided not to revise for and boys suck. So this could be awful but here you go.
> 
> Warning:
> 
> Feels, angst, feels, sex, lot's of angst, more sex and then scary Natasha plotting.
> 
> You have been warned.

He pulled back his fist and let it fly, sending the punching bag swinging. Sweat rolled down his forehead in rivulets and soaked his chiseled torso. Steve had abandoned his shirt after the third hour, when all of the sweat had made it heavy and slowed him down. It was around the sixth hour now, and the fluorescent lights were being to make his vision go funny. But sleep wouldn't come.

His mind was racing with thoughts of Bucky.

His Bucky.

Or Darcy's James.

It didn't make sense to him anymore. He was caught between inspiring hope and a bottomless pit of desperation. 

When they were growing up, Bucky was the best thing to ever happen to him. He protected Steve from bullies, made sure he always ate, even if it meant skipping a meal and taught him how to talk to girls. And Steve talked to girls, talked to them all the time. But... All he did was talk. Sure he enjoyed talking to pretty dames with red lipped smiles and legs for days. But they didn't... get Steve like Bucky did.

They were fifteen when they first kissed. It was a clumsy, uncomfortable encounter, "Just to see what it feels like." Bucky had said with a smirk, before leaning in. Their teeth had clashed and Steve had no idea what to do with his tongue. It was messy and strange and perfect. After that it became natural. 

They were best friends, did everything together, so why not this? 

It was the reasoning Steve had stuck to even when Bucky brought home dames for them to share, how they always snuggled together once the girl had snuck out the next morning, shoes in hand. Even after Bucky stopped bringing women back, it was the reason he told himself every time. There was nothing strange about this, they just did everything together. This was no different, right?

Everything Steve had ever read about this kind of thing was awful. It preached of how it was against the word of God and violated the church. It was unnatural, by all means an abomination. But whenever it got late at night, and Bucky sighed into his ear in ecstasy, it was easy to forget how wrong it was.

The neighbors all thought they were just close friends, even their best friends thought the same. The two of them were good at hiding it, in public touches were kept to a minimum and most mistook the glint in their eyes for friendly camaraderie. Hell, even Steve half believed that they were just close friends.

It was only after Bucky was taken from him and Steve woke up in a land of glowing screens and direct communication that he understood what they were. How desperately in love with him he was.

But it was too late. Bucky was dead and gone.

Until he wasn't.

He was trapped in a muzzle and decades of brainwashing, but he wasn't gone. No where near. He was so close that Steve could almost reach out a hand and touch him. But his eyes remained dead, the once lively spark gone. Until he uttered the name of one smart-mouthed intern.

Steve knew who she was. Christ, how could he not? Everybody knew of her never ending curves and fantastic legs. They were rival only to her witty mouth, which could fire a thousand bullets at you with the delicate movement of her lips. He had considered asking her out more than once, but found her crass nature a little off putting. He was the kind of girl Bucky would have loved though, a real spitfire. That was the main reason he stayed away, it just felt so wrong.

Then she waltzed in after a seven hour long interrogation of him helplessly staring at his best friend, his lover and his life, with not one ounce of recognition in his eyes. In a second they were in each other's arms with Bucky's lips pressed against hers. At this, Steve felt an exquisite curl of jealousy in his stomach, and his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 

Bucky was his.

He was Bucky's.

It was a promise that the two of them had shared before the ice, before the serum, before the war. Before anything else, they had made that promise. And Steve had stuck to it for the entirety of his life.

It hurt to see his Bucky breaking it, even if he had no idea who he was.

Blood started to run down his knuckles, thick and sticky. The punching bag burst open and flew off the hook, spraying sand everywhere. 

"Fuck." He cursed softly under his breath.

"You still have that dirty mouth punk?" A familiar drawl sounded behind him.

"Like yours is much better, jerk." He replied quickly, spinning around to face Bucky. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded, emphasizing the lean muscles in his arms. He wore an old fashioned wife beater with a pair of boxers. The outfit shouldn't be attractive, but Steve had never felt more turned on in his life. His eyes widened suddenly. "You remember." He said hesitantly, whilst praying to every deity he had ever read about.

Bucky nodded. "I do, punk. Everything." Steve sighed in relief, his shoulders sagging as a few decades worth of stress fell from his back. "I remember how you were the best friend I've ever had."

"You were mine too." He said softly, staring at Bucky, just drinking in the sight.

He opened his arms wide. "C'mere." And Steve launched himself at him, burrowing into his side. Once they were wrapped up in each other, Steve let the tears fall.

"I missed you so fucking much Buck."

"I missed you too Stevie." The use of the long-dead nickname awakened another bout of sobs. Bucky held onto him, gently rocking as Steve cried out all of the tears that he had kept to himself for so long. Once he wiped away the last of the tears, he pulled himself up and met Bucky's eyes.

"C'mon, let's go back to Darcy's room. She said that we could talk there." At the mention of her name, Steve stiffened. The brunet didn't mention it, just lightly punched him in the shoulder before dragging the blonde after him.

******

Darcy hadn't said much to him that morning. Just given him an encouraging smile and told him that he needed to talk to Steve. She said that she would understand if he wanted to leave her, she wouldn't hold it against him. Just that they should all talk about it first. Together.

Then she had finished applying her makeup before grabbing her purse and leaving the apartment, saying that she was going grocery shopping. Jarvis had all of the groceries delivered, but James didn't mention it, just walked down to the gym to talk to Steve.

Stevie.

He still wondered what he had done to piss off God that would result in this predicament. The decades of assassinations aside. He loved Darcy, he truly did. And he loved Stevie. Had done since they were kids. He didn't want to hurt either of them, but had a sick feeling in his stomach that he would.

Then he was taking Steve up to his and Darcy's adopted home. He was showing him around the apartment and idly chatting before Steve stopped him.

"Buck, what are you going to do? About Darcy and me?"

"I don't know." He said truthfully. Steve shrugged, before leaning forwards and slanting his lips against Bucky's. He pulled away first. "What are you doing?" He asked a little breathlessly, all too aware of Steve's naked torso pressed against his.

Steve smirked. "I'm kissing the guy that I've been in love with for the past eighty years." Then his lips were against Bucky's again and his tongue was thrusting into his mouth and he found himself enjoying it. He pulled away again, pushing Steve away from him. He went easily, eyes wide and he could tell that if he wanted to stop, Steve definitely would.

"Don't stop." He breathed. Steve grinned, before leaning in again.

******

It was an hour later when they stumbled out of the bedroom, sweaty and rumpled. They headed towards the kitchen, where Bucky could make his favourite pancakes, just like old times.

"What is the tattoo on your shoulder of?" Steve asked, lightly pressing a kiss onto said tattoo.

A voice shocked them out of the embrace. "It's a bird. Supposed to symbolize freedom." Darcy said, red tear tracks down her face. She shakily pressed a cigarette between her lips and raised a lighter, before creating a spark. She was sat on the ground, pressed against the wall just next to the bedroom door. Bucky didn't want to think about how long she could've been there, and what she could've, must've, heard.

She dropped the lighter on the ground next to her, ignoring the shattering of glass. She inhaled deeply before letting loose a long stream of smoke from between her lips. She held the cigarette between her index and middle finger, the end smoldering.

"Which you haven't been for so long James. So if this is what you want, then I'm not stopping you." She struggled to her feet, and Bucky noticed the used glass next to her, red lipstick stain at the rim and the remnants of what seemed to be whiskey. She waved the hand holding her cigarette around, gesturing at the both of them. "If you want to be with Steve, then go ahead, I am not going to throw a tantrum or try to stop you. But," She pointed the cigarette too close to his face for comfort. "You are not going to fuck me around like this. If you want Steve, be with Steve. If you want me, be with me. But you are not allowed to cheat on me with him, using both of us in the process." She snapped, before snatching her discarded purse.

"Darcy." James started, pulling his arm from Steve's hold. Steve let him go easily, but still looked upset.

"Save it." She snapped, taking another long drag of the cigarette. "If you choose Steve, that is fine. But you are not allowed to treat me this way. I will not fucking force myself to go through that."

"Darcy, I'm sorry." 

"You're sorry, but we both know that you don't regret it." She snarled. "This is the guy that you were in love with since you were kids and I will graciously step aside and let you two be together, but you do not get to just treat me like a piece of fucking trash because you suddenly remembered. I am not so easily discarded. If you want Steve then be the decent man that I know you are and tell me. Don't fucking sneak around and fuck with all of our heads."

"It wasn't meant to happen like this Darcy." Bucky said, scratching at his arm.

"I know. You were supposed to break up with me, or you were supposed to let Steve down gently. You weren't supposed to fucking cheat on me!" She shouted, before sighing deeply and running her hands through her hair. "This is so fucked up." She said, inhaling a long pull of smoke. "You come and find me when you've made a decision." She said abruptly, before marching past the two soldiers and out of the door.

 

******

Natasha back was as perfect as the rest of her, especially when it was naked and covered in sweat. Clint grabbed a handful of hair and yanked, eliciting a moan from her. He thrusted harder, dragging moan after moan from Natasha's mouth.

"I'm close." He grunted, knowing that he only needed a few more minutes before pleasure made his limbs weak.

Then someone knocked on the door.

"Ignore it." Natasha said immediately, barely audible over her sighs of ecstasy.

"I'm afraid that it's Miss Lewis, and she seems distressed." Jarvis chimed in, his voice only a little bit condescending.

Clint slowed to a stop and sagged over her back. "Go and see what she wants." Natasha sent him a frustrated smile that he was sure matched his own before clambering up and patting his back.

"Later."

"Yeah, yeah." He collapsed onto his back and tried to imagine things other than Natasha riding him. It proved more than a little bit difficult.

******

As soon as the door opened, Darcy pitched forwards, the stress and exhaustion combined with the copious amounts of whiskey forcing her to faint.

"Oh Darcy." Natasha sighed, gently catching her and stroking her hair. She carried her into the living room and set her on the couch, covering her with a blanket and pushing a pillow beneath her small frame.

Clint came out a few seconds later, armed with a glass of water and two aspirin. "She's gonna feel that tomorrow morning."

She nodded. "Something needs to be done about this." She tilted her head thoughtfully.

Clint raised his hands and backed away. He knew that head tilt. That head tilt usually meant that she plotting. Natasha plotting was never a good thing. It usually ended up with people dead or seriously maimed. 

"Natasha." He said warningly.

"What?" She said innocently. Too innocently. 

"Don't."

"Fine." She looked up. "What? I said fine."

He sent her a look before going back to the bedroom. When her plan came to fruition, he planned to be nowhere it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Yeah. I don't know either. If this is awful, tell me and I'll rewrite this chapter. At some point. 
> 
> So, Natasha plots, Clint avoids, James makes bad decisions, and Darcy's heart is broken.
> 
> Drop a comment below on what you think. Be gentle and nothing you recognize belongs to me. Thanks for reading, I love you guys.
> 
> ~Ruth


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she woke, it was to Bruce's dulcet tones and Olympia's infectious laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a bad day, so guess what?
> 
> ANGST.
> 
> FEELS.
> 
> ANGST.
> 
> SO MUCH ANGST.
> 
> It is a bit short, but it felt right to end it there, so just go with it. Thanks for the kudos, bookmarks and comments! You guys make my day! Enjoy reading guys.

When she woke, it was to Bruce's dulcet tones and Olympia's infectious laughter.

"Oh shut up!" Olympia giggled, a high pitched screech that tore through the heavy fog clouding Darcy's mind. "You could have totally pulled it off." Bruce chuckled a rusted, dry chuckle, one she hadn't heard since he found out about Tony and Pepper.

"You can read my mind, we both know that I couldn't have." Came Bruce's dry response.

"So what did you do?" Olympia asked, and Darcy was willing to bet any amount of money that she was leaning over with that flirty smirk of hers.

"What do you think? I get Natasha and Clint to fix the competition so that I win, use the winnings to pay back the dealer, who goes to his boss who promises that the mafia is no longer after me." At this, Olympia bursts into raucous laughter, that combines with Bruce's dry chuckles.

The pair soon go quiet, and Olympia's voice sounds again, but this time at an almost whisper.

"You awake, D?" 

Darcy peels her eyes open and nods blearily, her legs jolting out and hitting a hard surface in front of her. Her eyes open fully and everything thing swims into focus. The first thing she sees are rows after rows of plush leather seats.

"Where- Where are we?" She asks, stretching out her legs as far as she could without kicking the seat in front of her. Darcy hazily looks around to see Olympia sat next to her, with Bruce leaning over Olympia, both wearing matching expressions of concern and... Pity.

Olympia's eerie eyes stare at her with that all-knowing look.

She looks away from them and to the other side, where a small window hangs in the middle of a curved metal wall. Looking down, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight.

"Are we on a fucking plane?" She almost shouts, eyes going almost comically wide.

Olympia furiously makes shushing motions at her, and Darcy lowers her voice a fraction.

"Seriously Lym, are we on a plane right now?" Lym shrugs half-heartedly before nodding.

"Well, yes we are." Darcy opens her mouth wide, but Lym cuts her off. "Don't freak out! Just don't freak out."

"Fine," She says finally. "But you better explain."

"Alright," She raises her palms upwards in a small sign of surrender. "I just needed to get you out of there D." She raised her finger to close Darcy's widening mouth. "Sh, let me speak." She took a deep breath. "You weren't happy there D. The Avengers were taking you for granted and treating you like shit and you could deal with it when James was there, because he could take care of you and protect you. But then he violated your trust. He fucking betrayed you." Darcy opened her mouth again, but once again she was cut off. "And I don't care what you say, about him just 'figuring out his feelings'. He betrayed you. Took your trust and your heart and fucking stomped on it." Olympia's eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked, but she continued. "And I won't let that happen to you D. You deserve so much better than that, but you were too close to everybody to see it. You couldn't see that if you stayed it would have gotten worse, and they would have kept hurting you, they would have fucking destroyed you in the end D. I'm absolutely positive about that. If you didn't get out now, you never would."

She quickly wiped away a tear, the bracelets on her wrist jangling with the movement.

"And I'm not going to let that happen to you D. I won't let you stay there with those sick bastards and watch them wear your spirit down. They may not have realised that they were doing it, but they were. All of your relationships there were turning fucking toxic, and I needed to get you out of there before it turned cancerous. So I talked to Natasha and Clint, who arranged a flight to somewhere far away where the others won't find us."

Darcy's eyebrows flew upwards and her jaw dropped. Olympia giggled wetly at the expression. "Not for good, D. I'm not that reckless. Cousin dearest has rented us a place to stay for the next couple of months, just so you have time to get your head straight and can think everything through."

"And Bruce?" Darcy finally managed to ask.

Olympia glanced at him. "Oh, I figured that he was having a similar problem to you and could do with some time off."

He smiled sadly at her. "I needed to get away from Tony and Pepper." He grimaced. "I couldn't escape them in America. Stark enterprises is everywhere."

Darcy struggled to smile back. She clasped Olympia's hand in hers and leaned back into her seat, content to just sit in silence and stew in her own thoughts for the rest of the flight. 

The flight.

The flight to...?

"Hey Lym?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going exactly?"

Olympia smiled a smile that was pure mischief.

"England D."

******

The wind pulled and tugged at his hair and clothes, sending a sharp edge of cold beneath his clothes and chilling him to the bone.

But he'd been through worse.

He trudged over the pebbled beach, rocks and pebbles sliding beneath his feet and grating against the sand. He pulled his coat tighter over him and walked over to the unmoving helicopter, jet black against the dreary background of the grey sea.

"Everything in place?" Coulson asked, his tie and suit miraculously still, even in the wind.

Clint nodded, staring at his tie fascination. "Yep, I've scoped out the place. They'll be completely safe." He paused, before smirking at him. "Sir." He added.

Coulson chuckled. "Well that reminds me of old times." Clint shrugged, before turning to face the stormy ocean.

"It's good for them, y'know, to escape."

Coulson moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with the sandy haired man, nodding in agreement. "Yes. They need it."

"You going to take care of the Captain, or am I?"

Coulson cocked his head to the side with a small, cruel smile. "It's already taken care of."

Clint smiled the same, grim smile. "You work fast."

He shrugged. "Nobody hurts my family. Captain Rogers has just found himself with a very long assignment in the arctic."

Clint grinned, but continued the pleasant tone of conversation. From an outsiders perspective it appeared that the two men were merely discussing the horrible weather. "Hm, seems like it's a very important mission. Is there nobody else who can do it?"

"Of course not. This is a very urgent mission and requires the captain's specific skillset."

"Maybe the mission will do the good old captain some good."

"Maybe it will. The psychologist based there will do some good too."

"I think he needs it. Suppressed emotions like you wouldn't believe Coulson."

His eyes turned dark, a reflection of the storming ocean. "Oh I believe it Barton. I believe it." He briefly nodded at Clint before striding to the helicopter as the blades began lazily moving. He slid through the door but left it open as the blades began to pick up speed. Clint's hair flew around, matching the movement of his clothes.

"I'll stay as long as needed." He shouted over the wind.

Coulson nodded before shouting back. "Thankyou for this!"

"I've always got your back Coulson!"

"Thankyou!" He said again, but the words were snatched away by the wind. The door slid shut and the helicopter smoothly lifted from the ground. Clint raised his hand in a solemn wave of goodbye before the helicopter rose into the air and slowly got smaller and smaller. Clint stayed on the beach until the small dot of black winked out of existence.

He sighed, before trudging back up the beach and towards the pier. He felt a small vibration against his chest and pulled out his phone from beneath his heavy coat.

"Nat?" He shouted to be heard. "Yeah! Yeah it's taken care of! I'm going to pick them up now! Yeah, yeah it is! Alright! Get back to me once you've finished it! Okay, love you!"

He hung up and resumed his walk, suddenly regretting that he hadn't rented a car yet.

******

"C'mon Buck, I just got you back." Steve purred, rubbing a hand over James' chest seductively.

"Sorry Stevie, I guess I'm just tired." He sighed, shrugging out from the blond's hold and standing up. He turned around to face a very shirtless Steve who was knelt on the bed. He smiled weakly at him, but Steve just frowned.

"You're still thinking about her." He said quietly, shoulders slumping in resignation.

Bucky nodded slowly. "I'm in love with her. I can't stop."

"But you also love me." He replied, voice slowly rising. The brunette nodded, playing with his fingers. Steve clambered from the bed and slowly rose to his feet. "To be honest Buck, I'm kind of feeling like I've come second place to her." Ignoring Bucky's protests, he continued, his voice steadily rising. "You've been with her for the past two days and your memories of her came back like that." He snapped his fingers. "But you spend six hours staring at my face and can't even recognize me. You can fuck her all you like, and not feel a smidgen of remorse. But when it comes to touching me you can't even fucking stomach it!" Steve was fully pacing now, hands fisted and pausing occasionally to shoot a glare at bucky.

"Stevie, you know it's not like that! Hydra stole my memories of you!"

"They also fucking stole your memories of her! But they came back easily enough. Maybe that proves who you love more." He growled bitterly. Bucky stared at him, face blank with shock. He slowly slunk down to sit on the bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands clasped and hung between his legs. 

"Steve." He said quietly. Steve paused in his pacing and stared at him, waiting. "I know the guy that I loved eighty years ago, before I was taken and before the ice. I'm not sure that you and him are the same person." A tear slid down Steve's face, before he moved closer and grasped his hands. Bucky just gently tugged them away. "The Stevie that I knew," Tears made his voice thick. "Would never say something like that. Ever."

"I'm sorry." Steve said breathlessly, grabbing his hands again. "I'm so sorry. I've been missing you for eighty years Buck. Ever since I couldn't save you on the train. I'm just all over the place." He laughed wetly. "I don't think I'm entirely one hundred percent on the sane side of things." His laugh cut short and he looked down, before meeting Bucky's burning blue eyes. "Please forgive me. I don't know what I- I don't know how to fix myself." 

Bucky wrapped his hands in his own, and stared back, a small smile lighting his face. "We'll fix each other." He whispered, before they were on each other, pulling each other into a tight hug.

Steve smiled into his chest and sighed, feeling better than he had in decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did ya think? Olympia and Bruce flirting? Clint, Natasha and Coulson conspiring? Olympia's heartfelt (angsty) speech? Steve being... Well, Steve. Bucky falling for it? Bucky still loving Darcy? 
> 
> Comment your opinion, tell me if it was crap and have a lovely day!
> 
> Love you guys!
> 
> ~Ruth


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Darcy woke up the next morning, it's a gradual regaining of conciousness, rather than the sharp jerk of awareness that she had become accustomed to recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very, very ill (Meaning I have a cold and am determined to milk it for all that it's worth) so sorry if this is bad. I made it a little longer so I hope you enjoy. As always, nothing you recognize belongs to me and I hope you enjoy!

When Darcy woke up the next morning, it's a gradual regaining of conciousness, rather than the sharp jerk of awareness that she had become accustomed to recently.

A small shaft of sunlight warmed her face as stretched luxuriously, mouth widening in a silent yawn. She blearily rolled over with a smile, one arm outstretched to gently wake James. Her smile dropped and her eyes shot open abruptly when her hand fell through empty air and landed on the cold, empty mattress. A small tear slipped down her cheek and hung from her chin when the events from the past few days flitted through her mind, like a silent movie reel.

James coming to the tower.

Steve arresting her.

The team's betrayal.

Reuniting with James.

Bringing in Wanda and Professor Xavier.

James remembering his past.

Remembering Steve.

It never occurred to Darcy that he could forget her in the process.

A second tear quickly chased after the first when she thought about walking back into their floor of the tower, a brown bag of groceries in one hand and her purse in the other. She remembered being nervous - Oh God, so nervous - when she let herself in. Eager, but impossibly terrified of what James would say, what he would decide. Thousands of questions and scenarios ran through her mind on a constant loop, driving her slowly insane. Would Steve be there? Did James want to leave her? Or would he let the Captain down gently? Would he have other solutions? Polyamory, threesomes? They flashed through her mind at a breakneck pace, each thought never stopping long enough for her to decide which is more likely to happen, and how she could prepare for it. The most preparation she had done for this was buy a large bottle of whiskey and a tub of chocolate ice cream. Whether she'd eat and drink them in celebration or sorrow, she wasn't sure, but it was good to have on hand.

But all the thoughts froze when she heard James' all too familiar moan as soon as she set foot inside the apartment. It was followed by a sharp grunt. It was definitely a male grunt.

But not James'.

She moved automatically, her mind going numb as her body took over. It was almost like she was in a trance as she set her keys in the little ceramic bowl by the front door and dropped her purse on the coffee table. She carried the groceries into the kitchen and mindlessly unpacked them, making sure that everything was in the correct place and vaguely wondering why her cheeks were suddenly wet. Her mind was still numb when she clambered onto the kitchen counter and grabbed a lighter and packet of cigarettes from on top of the cabinets, hidden there for when she was stressed. Whilst she was up there she also grabbed a bottle of something dark. Darcy wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed stronger than the stuff she had just bought, and Tony had given it to her on her birthday last year with the promise of forgetting everything with just a glass.

She idly thought that she could do with forgetting right now.

Darcy grabbed a glass and walked over to the wall that backed against the bedroom before collapsing to her knees. She pulled herself upright to lean against the wall and poured a very full glass of the dark stuff before tearing open the packet and placing a cigarette between her teeth. Using the lighter, she created a spark and inhaled deeply, enjoying the slight burn as the smoke curled inside her lungs. She held the cigarette between her middle and index finger and took a large pull from the glass, refraining from wincing as it burned her throat and lit her stomach on fire.

She leaned against the wall and listened to James as he cried out his love for somebody that wasn't her.

The feeling of numbness still hadn't ceased, but Darcy did sometimes find her cheeks damp with wetness if she was by herself for too long. She stared sadly at the empty side of the bed before rolling over and curling up as sobs racked her frame.

*****

Olympia was dreaming. This much she knew to be true. With gifts like hers, she was constantly subjected to other people's thoughts, feelings, hope and dreams. She meant dreams in the literal and metaphorical sense. When she was awake it was child's play to block everything out and only focus on what she wanted to focus on whilst everything else became background noise.

When she was asleep though, that was a different story.

She couldn't hold up the barriers that she built when she was awake, and other people's steady stream of conciousness slowly infiltrated her mind, and make their dreams hers too. Olympia had grown used to this when she grew up in foster homes, surrounded by other children. She knew how to tell when a dream wasn't her own.

For starters, certain aspects was slightly out of focus.

Olympia found herself stood in the middle of an expensive hotel lobby, if the golden chandelier and large marble check in desk were anything to go by. There were massive walls that stretched high and decorated with gold accents. The carpet beneath her feet was thick, soft and there was the temptation to take off her shoes and let her toes curl into the red material. A little section was cut off from everything else and held a multitude of massive couches and chairs, and Olympia would bet her life's savings that they were the comfiest things that she would ever sit in. She spun around and saw a large revolving door, painted gold to match the colour scheme. All the gold reflected the light of the chandelier and hurt her eyes, making them narrow so that she could make out her surroundings. Little candlesticks and bouquets of flowers decorated most available surfaces and made the room smell of roses. It put her on edge, to be in a room of such obvious luxury.

The air was thick with silence, and the room was free of movement. As far as she could tell, she was alone. But then a woman entered. Her face was blurry, but Olympia could still see the graceful way she carried herself and long, strawberry blonde hair. It hung and swayed against an expensive business suit that matched the killer heels the woman was wearing. She walked past Olympia, close enough for her to smell the expensive channel perfume, and up to the marble desk and leaned over it, staring at something, Olympia's eyes following her the entire time. A man followed her, wearing a matching suit and a tuft of messy brown hair. He wrapped his arms around the woman, who leaned back into him with a laugh that grated against Olympia's ears.

Though both of their faces were blurry, everything else was crystal clear. Including the gut-clenching rage that throbbed in her stomach when the pair shared a sweet kiss.

The second clue that she was dreaming, was feeling emotions that weren't hers.

Intense anger bubbled beneath her skin, making her fists clench and her teeth grind. The rage was like a physical thing, that she could feel moving and tightening in her every bone. The muscles in her stomach began contracting and tightening and Olympia's torso suddenly pitched forwards as her muscles clenched painfully. She whimpered as the muscles in her arms began doing the same thing, making her arms flail and move uncontrollably as her muscles moved in unnatural spasms. She cried out as the skin around her shoulders tightened as her bones cracked and tore audibly. She looked down and nearly fainted when she saw her trousers tear as her body throbbed in growth. 

Her back arched painfully and her head was flung backwards so far that it felt like it would fly away. Her mouth opened in a deafening roar as her bones cracked for a final time and green filled her vision.

Olympia jerked awake, breathing heavily with her body aching like she had just gone ten rounds with the Black Widow. Using her sleeve, she wiped away the cold sweat that dripped from her face and took a few seconds to let her mind calm down. Once her breathing steadied, and she no longer felt like she was about to pass out, she wondered who's dream she could have been in.

"Bruce!" She shouted, tumbling out of bed to land heavily on the floor. Ignoring her sore side, she scampered to her feet and sprinted out of the room and through the hallway of their new home.

When she had first found it online, she had instantly decided that it was perfect. A little cottage on the coast of England, with only four streets neighbours and a main town about twenty minutes away. The cottage had two floors, the first having a living room that combined with a dining room and a kitchen, as well a small bathroom. The second floor having three bedrooms and a main bathroom to share between the three of them. It was decorated with comfort and homeyness in mind, with the walls painted a warm cream that matched the carpets and a fireplace. All of the furniture was old and wooden, built to last rather than to look good. Once the three had rented the car, it was a two hours drive to the main town, where they bought supplies such as food and toiletries. Then they spent the next hour getting lost before finding the small cottage that was literally in the middle of nowhere.

The pebbled beach was a ten minute walk away and you could see the sea from Darcy's bedroom window. The four streets consisted of about twelve houses, a post office and a small corner shop that only sold the basics of food. 

It was perfect.

Olympia darted through the one hallway that connected all three bedrooms to the staircase and burst through Bruce's door, instantly darting to kneel at his side to wake him up. He was tossing and turning, the covers down by his feet from where he had kicked them off. She gently shook his shoulder, prepared to dive away if - in his sleepy state - he decided that she was the enemy. She needn't have worried though, because as soon as she touched him, his eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Lym?" He asked, wiping away the gunk that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. "What's wrong?"

She grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it. "You were having a nightmare."

"How did you- Oh." He halted his question suddenly as understanding hit him. "You can read minds, I know." He muttered, pulling his hand away to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck and avoid her gaze. There was a pregnant silence before he spoke again, Olympia just waited patiently for his to talk. "Look, I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I'll just... I'll do more meditation, okay? That usually makes them happen less frequently and I could probably-"

"Bruce." She said quietly, cutting into his rambling. "It's okay, you don't have to apologise." 

He still didn't meet her gaze, instead staring down at the space of mattress between them. "I do. You shouldn't have to go through that because of my stupid subconscious and because I can't keep control my emotions and because I-"

She cut him off again, grabbing his hand for the second time. He looked down at their joined hands before his gaze flickered up to meet hers. "It wasn't your fault, stop apologizing. Nobody can control their emotions all of the time, especially when their asleep." She stared at his eyes, unflinching and forcing him to stare back. "There is nothing wrong with feeling, Bruce."

He looked away, face colouring red. "I know, sometimes it just gets... Too much, y'know?"

She laughed, a dry, cold laugh. "If anybody knows about feeling too much, it's me. I sometimes wonder whether what I'm feeling is what I'm feeling, and not what somebody else is feeling." She blinked slowly when she realised that she had only ever told that to one person before, and that was Darcy.

They sat in a comfortable silence, just holding hands in the dark. Olympia hadn't bothered turning on the light in her hurry. If anything, the darkness made everything seem more safe, as if they could say anything to each other. The only light came from her eyes as they gently shone in the darkness.

Bruce eventually broke the silence. "What-What did you see of my dream?"

Olympia shrugged, before standing up and sliding into bed next to Bruce. "The ground was uncomfortable," She explained, before kicking the duvet fully off the bed, so they were just lying there in their pyjamas, skin touching. Bruce was shirtless, just in a pair of boxers, and Olympia was dressed similarly, just wearing a tank top and pyjama shorts. Their arms and legs were touching, the heat radiating between them. But it wasn't sexual, or uncomfortable. Just comforting.

"It wasn't like I saw your dream," She answered as Bruce let out a sigh of relief. He sucked the air back in when she continued. "It's more like I lived it. For all intents and purposes, I was you." Bruce reached down and slid his hand in hers. She linked their fingers together.

He sighed again. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that."

"Does it feel like that every time?"

Bruce nodded before realising that she couldn't see him. He mentally swore at himself before answering. "Yes. It hurts every time."

"I'm so sorry." He nearly choked at her reply. No one had ever thought to feel sorry for him, usually they felt a unique blend of fear and anger towards him. Nobody had ever said something so honestly apologetic and earnest to him before.

"No one's ever said that to me before." He said, his voice coming out oddly thick.

"What, sorry?"

He nodded affirmation before realising again. "Yeah." He said.

"Then people are dickheads." She said, pulling a small chuckle from Bruce's throat.

It made her smile to hear the sound.

"Were those people in your dream Tony and Pepper?" The sound cut off abruptly and she instantly regretted asking the question.

"Yes." He said quietly, hand tightening around hers a fraction before it loosened again. "I've been trying to avoid thinking about them, and I can almost manage it during the day, but at night I dream about nothing else." He paused again. "I've just been avoiding sleep now, so that I don't dream." Olympia believed him, having noticed the heavy bags that had recently appeared beneath his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She said it again! In all his life, nobody had ever said sorry for something meaningful before, and here this girl was, saying it twice now!

"It's okay," He mumbled. "Not your fault."

"It kind of was." She said quietly. "I told everybody about it. I shouldn't have done that." She released his hand and turned on her side to face him. He copied the gesture before grabbing her hand again to let their connected palms hang between them. "I'm so sorry about that Bruce. I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't any of my business. You were completely innocent and I wrecked your relationship."

She leaned close to him, forcing their foreheads to touch. "I'm sorry." She said quietly, staring into his eyes.

"I forgive you." He breathed, never meaning something so much in his life. "It's better that you told me, they never would have. I'd rather know than live in ignorance."

They fell into silence again, just sharing air and staring into each other's eyes.

This time, it was Olympia who broke the silence. "If you want to sleep, I can make it so that you won't dream."

"You can do that?" He asked, hope obvious in his voice.

"If you want." She shrugged, a smile lighting up her face.

"But wait, will you be asleep whilst you help me? I don't want you to stay awake just to help me." Even when he was exhausted, he didn't to be a burden.

"I enter this sort of state, where I'm not asleep, but I'm not awake. It's more like, resting." She said finally. "It's like I'm asleep, and I'll get all of the rest, but I'm aware. Just trust me Bruce."

"What do I have to do?" he asked nervously, hand tightening around hers. She gently pushed him to lie on his back, their hands still clasped.

"We just have to be touching." She informed him as she moved to press her side against his. Bruce found himself almost enjoying the sensation of her warm skin pressed against his. "And you," She continued. "Just need to close your eyes and breathe." He did as she asked, becoming more and more relaxed by the second to the sound of her comforting tones.

Olympia saw people's consciousness as a physical thing, something she could manipulate and alter with ease. When somebody was awake, it was like a roller-coaster, constantly moving at a high speed, up and down in a spiral of a thousand emotions a minute. The complexity of the human thought never ceased to amaze her. But when the person was nearly asleep, or relaxed, their mind seemed to hum at a low buzz, their thoughts slowing to from a massive scary roller-coaster to a gentle ride on the teacups. This is what Bruce's was like now, humming gently, getting quieter and quieter. She purposely avoided listening to his thoughts and instead focused on the cloud of sleep that was settling over his mind.

Dreams played like a film through the mind, a film that Olympia could change if she focused. She focused now and changed it. It was of a smiling Pepper, lying naked in bed with an equally nude Tony who was currently wrapped around her, mid-laugh. It was like Olympia was physical presence in Bruce's mind. She wasn't sure how she would describe it, but if somebody asked she would say that it was like she threw her thoughts into Bruce's mind and persuaded his to change,

Olympia had only discovered her ability to manipulate somebody else's mind when she was eighteen. Before that she had only been able to read somebody's thoughts. Then suddenly, she could change what somebody thought, dreamed, hoped and did. If you could control somebody's thoughts, you could control their actions too. She knew that it was very, very dangerous, and avoided using it if she could help it. It wasn't difficult to stop somebody having nightmares, solely because in their subconscious, the person didn't want to have the dream. So it was very easy to persuade the mind. That was how she mostly made her living, by helping people to sleep.

Olympia didn't control minds, merely persuaded them.

So she persuaded Bruce's now, forcing the images of Pepper and Tony away, and focusing on a dreamless sleep. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, considering how strong the pair's presence in his mind was, but she managed it. Once she did, she hung just on the edge of his conciousness, relaxing and present if any of the dreams came back. She lay next to him, skin touching and her mind in a state of complete relaxation.

Bruce woke up from the best sleep in his life, Olympia's legs tangled with his and her upper half resting on his chest. Her head lay in the hollow of his neck and his hand rested on her lower back and kept her in place.

He smiled when he realised that their hands were still clasped together.

*****

Steve stared at the tv, an open sketch book lying next to him, the half finished drawings discarded. He mindlessly flicked through channels, not really focusing on anything. 

He was sat in the living room of his floor in the Avengers tower. His feet were propped up on the coffee table and he drank from a glass of whiskey. It didn't get him drunk, but he grown to like the taste. The door clicked as it swung open, but Steve paid no attention, picking a programme to watch as Bucky walked in and took a seat at the other end of the couch.

"Where have you been?" Steve said finally, not looking at him.

"Gym." Bucky replied, also staring at the tv. 

"You've been at the gym a lot recently." Steve pointed out, but Bucky merely shrugged. There was a lengthy silence, the air filling up with everything that they weren't saying, making it thick with tension and awkwardness. 

"I got a new assignment today." The blond said, taking another long pull of whiskey.

"Oh?" The other man said, pulling out his phone - something he was still getting used to - and mindlessly playing candy crush.

"Yeah, it's a six month one."

"Long time."

"Yeah, it is."

"Where's it based?"

"The Arctic."

"Arctic huh?"

"Yeah, I leave tonight."

"I'll miss you." Bucky said, still staring at his phone.

"I'll miss you too." Steve replied, gazing intently at the tv.

Bucky didn't comment when Steve abruptly stood and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door after him. Just checked to make sure that he wasn't going to come back out before going onto one of the millions of apps on his phone and clicking the searchbar. Darcy Lewis instantly popped up, and he clicked on the icon. His heart broke for the seventh time that day when it showed that she hadn't made any updates.

He quickly slid his phone into his pocket and decided to visit Clint and Natasha. They would know something.

******

Clint wasn't religious, but there was something about Natasha's naked body as it arched above him, glistening with sweat that nearly made him believe.

They hadn't had proper sex in the past week, constantly being interrupted and this time Clint was determined to finish.

So when a knock sounded, he let out a volley of hideous swearwords in several languages, that were only beaten by Natasha who spouted numerous death threats. He panted, before letting out a few more curses.

"Ignore it." Natasha sighed, riding him still. But the knocking was endless and the person seemed determined to be answered.

"I fucking can't." He growled, as Natasha sagged above him. She slid off him and gestured at the door.

"Take care of it."

"Gladly." He said, not bothering to cover up and marching out the room. He yanked the door open, revealing him in all his naked glory and practically snarled at Bucky, who was frantically trying to avert his eyes. "Unless it's a fucking world threat you can fuck right off." He growled before slamming the door and marching back into the bedroom. Natasha smirked at him.

"Very elegantly done." She burst into laughter when Clint shrugged and dived back into bed.

Bucky spent the remainder of the day trying to banish the image of a bare Clint from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone through and updated most of the chapters, changed a couple plot points and just generally made it better (I think). If you spot anything I've missed just let me know and have a wonderful day :)
> 
> ~Ruth


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things considered, Eddie had been having a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Sup guys, you alright? I haven't updated this in awhile, so sorry for that but it's mainly because of who I am as a person.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the new series that I've started (yes I understand that I haven't finished the rest of my fics, but once again, I'm a terribly flawed individual). Just click on my username and it should be there.
> 
> I tried something new with the opening of the chapter, so let me know if you liked it.

All things considered, Eddie had been having a good day. 

The cute Barista at his favourite coffee shop had slipped him her number between his usual black coffee and Panini, his mother had finally stopped harassing him about his choice to move away from home for his job and traffic had been light so he'd been able to make it into work just in time to grab the last doughnut in the breakroom.

Considering his colleagues, he was lucky not to lose a hand when going for the last sprinkled chocolate glaze. 

Everything was going great.

Until a blank faced agent that Eddie didn't recognize materialized in the doorway of his office when he was mid-bite into his doughnut. He held a briefcase in one hand, the other one hanging limply at his other side. His figure was slim, bordering on sickly and his non-descript suit hung from his frame. His face was average in the most forgettable way and if asked, Eddie wouldn't have been able to recall a single feature of the man.

He hurriedly wolfed down the rest of his doughnut before jumping to his feet and beckoning the man in. He held out a hand to shake with a smile.  
"Agent Wright, nice to meet you." The man glanced down at his hand with that ever present blank expression but made no move to shake his hand. Eddie frowned for a second and glanced at his hand. He yanked it back and quickly shook off the remaining rainbow sprinkles before sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, sprinkled doughnut." He said, nervously shrugging.

The man simply nodded and glanced around his small office, the mess of papers on his desk and haphazard filing cabinets. His expression gave nothing away and Eddie found himself wishing that he was more organized with his paperwork.

He quickly snatched up a few of the loose papers on his desk and made a futile effort to put them into a neat pile. The agent stared at him as he awkwardly shuffled the papers together before giving up and dropping them back onto the mess that was his desk. He gestured a hand at the old chair that was pushed to the side of the room.

"Have a seat." The agent didn't reply, just gracefully pulled the chair over and sat down. Eddie flopped onto his own seat in defeat and gazed at the mysterious man in front of him. They sat in silence for a few seconds, the man waiting patiently whilst Eddie fidgeted. "Sorry about the mess." He said, wiping a hand to remove the sweat that had suddenly broken over his forehead. 

The man said nothing, simply inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Eddie awkwardly loosened his tie and dropped his hands.

The man remained motionless.

Eddie hesitantly tightened his tie and fixed his collar.

The man was silent. 

Eddie fiddled with his fingers and was close to gnawing at his nails when the man finally spoke.

"For a psychologist you're unsettled very easily."

Eddie jumped at the sudden noise and his knee connected to the bottom of his desk with a sharp CRACK. He winced and frantically rubbed the injured spot before glancing back up at the man. His face hadn't changed and he gave away no clue to his thoughts or feelings.

That didn't stop a hot flush fill Eddie's face as he blushed.

"Um, yeah. Sorry about that." He mumbled, looking down. He risked a glance up to see the man's eyes fixed on him. He swallowed before thrusting his hand out (the sprinkle free one) with a forced smile. "I think I mentioned that I'm Agent Wright." He didn't add on that it was nice to meet the man because it really wasn't and all he wanted was for the man to get out of his office.

The man showed no sign that he noticed the difference and simply held his palm out. Eddie grabbed his hand and was surprised at the firm shake of calloused hands that contrasted with the thin, sickly looking man.

"Agent Coulson."

Eddie gulped. Agent Phil Coulson was more legend than man around the office and was the hero of nearly every junior agent. He was rumoured to have been the only man to ever see Nick Fury cry and was reported to have taken part in over five thousand missions; over twice what other agents his age had completed. He was right hand man of Shield just a year ago.

Before he died that was. 

"A-Agent Coulson?" He stuttered, mentally kicking himself for letting his nervousness show. "I thought you were dead." Eddie realized that his brain and mouth were no longer communicating and his lips were running without any restraint.

"Most people do." The possible ghost replied with a small twitch of his lips.

"I went to your funereal."

Coulson's head cocked to the right. "I'm glad that you thought we were close enough to attend." Eddie could almost swear that a smirk was peaking at the dead man's lips but it disappeared before he could tell for sure.

He looked down as his face burned a bright red for a second time in the last five minutes. 

He heard movement and peeked up to see Coulson placing his briefcase on top of the loose papers scattered over his desk. He flicked through and pulled out a sheaf of papers neatly stored in a black folder. He slid the folder in front of Eddie and started talking.

"Small talk aside, Shield needs you for a classified patient."

His head jerked up sharply and he gazed down at the folder. A large red stamp reading CLASSIFIED in loud lettering covered most of the front. He looked back up at Coulson with his eyes narrowed.

"Every patient that I see is classified, including their names and diagnosis. Why is this patient so different that you need to personally deliver their file?"

Eddie felt the weight of Coulson's stare as his eyes flicked up to meet his.

"That is none of your concern. Please remember how to talk to your superiors." His voice was soft and gentle but firm. Every word was perfectly sounded as if he put effort into each syllable. 

"Sorry sir." Eddie apologized instantly, nervously fingering the edge of the black folder in front of him.

Coulson nodded. "This patient takes absolute priority over everything and everybody else."

"Yes sir."

"Your flight leaves in four hours."

"My flight?"

He nodded at the black folder. "All of the information is in there."

Eddie's fingers itched to open the folder but he restrained himself. "Yes sir, I'll be ready."

Coulson nodded, "Good." and snapped his briefcase shut with a snap. He rose to his feet and Eddie leapt up to shake his hand once more. He took his briefcase in hand and stood in front of the desk, meeting Eddie's eyes. "This mission requires the utmost care and focus. Anything less than that is unacceptable."

He gave Eddie enough time to nervously gulp before he walked away, pausing momentarily at the door to glance over his shoulder. "And clean this office up. Disorganization is not tolerated at Shield." The door swung shut behind his retreating back and Eddie collapsed into his chair with a loud sigh.

His shoulders sagged as the tension that had been residing in his muscles for the past ten minutes suddenly left his body. He reached up and wiped away the sweat from his brow and tried not to think about his less than stellar performance in front of the Agent.

He loosened his tie and top button and shrugged out of the suit jacket that suddenly seemed stifling. 

Eddie leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk, ignoring the fall of a few of the loose sheets as he dislodged them as well as the thudding of his heartbeat. He snatched up the folder that currently held all of his attention and carefully read the contents.

Usually he liked to think of himself as a tough man, able to take whatever was thrown his way. But upon meticulously reading the contents of the folder, he realized how badly he had been lying to himself.

Suddenly he wished that he had listened to his mother.

*****

Darcy stumbled downstairs in time to see Bruce flip a pancake over perfectly to encouraging cheers from Olympia. He wore deep purple boxers that made her let out a small smirk and a big t-shirt. Olympia sat at the dining table in a tank top and pyjama shorts. They both had matching bed head and were smiling profusely at each other as they chatted over glasses of orange juice.

"Mornin' D! How'd you sleep?" Lym drawled, smirking at her. 

"Okay, I got a couple hours." She poured herself a glass of juice and moved to sit across from her. "I didn't know you cooked." She commented, draining half her cup in one go.

Bruce shrugged. "There's lot's you don't know about me."

Olympia smirked. "Don't be smart." She said, never taking her eyes off her cousin.

"I thought you liked that I was smart?" He replied, a small smile tugging at his lips as he busied himself with making a large stack of pancakes.

She raised a shoulder in a half shrug. "Nah, I only like you for your pancakes."

"Oh ouch." Darcy giggled, gazing between the two of them. "Poor Bruce."

"I know, she bullies me."

"Oh shut up you," Lym sighed dramatically, flicking a balled up napkin at Bruce's head. He neatly sidestepped it and turned to Darcy with a small pout.

"Please protect me. I'm not sure my fragile ego can take much more."

"Fragile my ass!" Lym cried, throwing another napkin at him. This time it hit, and Darcy quickly ducked as he returned fire. She hid under the table as the pair ran around the room flirting furiously and slinging old napkins at each other. Suddenly the smell of burning filled the air and she saw Bruce's feet sprinting towards the stove.

"Shit!"

Needless to say, they called ceasefire as the scientist served a large plate of perfectly cooked pancakes, aside from the one burned cake that was promptly thrown away by a smirking Olympia. They dug in and Lym immediately moaned around the first bite.

Bruce went bright red, but his small smile stayed in place for the entire meal.

Olympia considered it a personal accomplishment.

Darcy just wished that they would get over themselves and make out already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short but I'll write and upload the second half tomorrow. Please read my new soulmark series, I'm quite actually quite proud of it. Don't forget to comment, I always love your suggestions and there's a 90% chance that I'll use your suggestion!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love you all <3
> 
> ~Ruth


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this one is for Musichowler and BadWolf81, you two wanted it so bad and now you've got it :) Tell me of it works please.
> 
> I'm currently on my fourth cup of coffee - which I don't normally drink - and I cancelled my plans for today so please enjoy reading! 
> 
> Just FYI, this isn't Captain America Winter Soldier compliant, but I am taking bits and pieces of plot from there.

The flight had been long and arduous. Especially since it was just him and two other unnamed agents on board that didn't utter a word to him. He sat near the back of the quinjet and played a game on his phone for the entire flight. By the end of the eight hours he had a cramp in his fingers and a special hatred for green pipes and yellow birds. 

The jet landed without a sound and he began to disembark. He luxuriously stretched as far as he could inside and heard the satisfying crack and snapping of his bones. He ignored the distasteful sneers from the other agents and straightened out his suit before standing in front of the panel of the floor that would drop open any second. He glanced back at the other agents and raised his eyebrows in question at their little smiles. They looked like they knew something that he didn't. 

Hearing the usual clunking that signified that the panel was about to open he shrugged and turned away to face the floor. It slid open, the snow covered ground coming into view and light filling the dark cabin. He flinched at the blinding whiteness and ducked, covering his eyes.

When his eyes had stopped watering and he felt like he could think again, Eddie risked glancing up at the other agents and saw them smirking and wearing sunglasses. They brushed past him and strode down the runway.

Eddie found himself already hating his new mission. 

He scrambled after them and winced as the cold wind hit him. Looking around, all he could see was a large expanse of dazzling white. Their quinjet was the only speck of colour for miles around and the vast emptiness made him feel slightly sick. The air pushed and tugged at his clothes and hair and he instantly felt chilled to the bone.

"Agent Wright!" He perked up at the sound of his name and looked up just in time to catch the massive rucksack thrown his way. It hit his stomach painfully and knocked the breathe out of him. The nameless agents didn't give him time to recover however, they just gestured at him to open the top of the sack. He unbuckled it and pulled out a massive winter coat, thermal pants and a pair of sturdy walking boots.

"I thought we were next to the Shield base!" He shouted, the wind snatching away most of his words. 

The men shrugged. "We're about an hours walk away." They shouted back, pulling on their own winter attire. 

An hour's walk turned out to be four hours and Eddie had already decided that the two men he was walking were certifiable psychopaths. 

Psychopath #1 was cunning and manipulative with a grandiose sense of self while Psychopath #2 had glib and superficial charm and was a pathological liar. Both showed no remorse. Eddie just stayed silent the whole time, mentally exercising himself by counting off how many check boxes they ticked on the Hare Psychology checklist. 

The answer was a lot.

But eventually they made it to the base, which was literally a round black disc in the ground that they would've missed had they been walking five steps to the left. Psychopath #1 crouched next to it and knocked on it in some complicated pattern that Eddie forgot as soon as it was hammered out.

The disc was pushed up with a loud popping sound and Psychopath #2 grabbed it and pushed it out of the way. It revealed another blank faced agent stood in a deep hole who gestured for their packs. They passed them down one at a time before Psychopath #1 jumped down the hole in the ground with practised ease. The other man flicked Eddie on the shoulder.

"After you." The smile he wore gleamed maliciously.

He gulped, but straightened his shoulder and peered into the hole. The ground seemed far away, at least seven feet down. Awkwardly clambering down, he dropped one leg into the hole, followed by the other as he held himself up by his hands. He dangled for a few seconds, desperately praying and regretting every choice he had made that had led him to this point before letting go and crashing to the floor. His landed on his feet, his right one twisting at an unnatural angle as he fell backwards to smack his head on the ground.

"Fuck." He hissed, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to fight through the pain and not pass out from throbbing in his ankle. 

"Come on, let's lift him." A new voice said as he felt different hands grabbing his arms, torso and his legs. One hand strayed to close to his ankle and he let out a small whimper before the hand was pulled away.

"It looks like a clean break, should be a bitch to heal though." The same voice from before said as the three men carried him through a maze of hallways.

Eddie felt bile rising in his throat but was barely holding it back when a voice that he dimly recognized as Psychopath #2's spoke.

"Hey, I can actually see the bone!"

That's when he actually threw up over himself, the putrid smell filling the air as the men groaned. 

The last thing he heard before darkness pulled him under was a strong voice shouting. "What the fuck is that smell?!"

*****

He was now clean, dressed in a fresh suit with his ankle clasped in a tight cast that he could just about hobble around on with the help of crutches. The most painful thing about the entire experience was that the entire crew of the Arctic mission had nicknamed him the 'puker' considering that he was the first person to throw up within five minutes of arriving at the Arctic base. The nickname wasn't clever, especially considering the fact that it was created by Shield agents, most of whom had been on the job for at least ten years but it had stuck.

They had given him an office which was a virtual replica of his one at the New York branch of Shield, minus the chaotic mess and plus a few extras. He had his desk and chairs, filing cabinets and a lifetime supply of stationary. But he also got a Shield issue laptop that he would bet his life savings was a Stark model and an extra room with comfortable chairs, sofas and a warm décor. It was obvious that much more money and effort had been put into the second room solely for the benefit of his patient but he couldn't make himself mad about that. He also got a set of keys for both with a strict warning not to lose them.

Speaking of his patient, he hadn't seen hide or hair of him for the four days that he had been in the base. At mealtimes when he ate with the rest of the crew he tended to grab his food and eat in silence by himself and avoid making eye contact with Eddie. He had resorted to trying to catch by himself more often than could be considered normal. Eddie had finally had the last straw and slid a note under his door giving him his appointment time and date. The date was today and the time was ten minutes ago.

After another ten minutes, Eddie gave up and began putting his notes away to give into his temptation and go and get a brownie from the kitchens when he heard a knock on the door. Fully expecting it to be one of the agents here to insult him he shouted "Come in!" without looking up. Continuing to pack his stuff away he didn't look up until a shy, stuttering voice spoke.

"Uh, sorry I'm late. I was in the middle of something." His head shot up to see the man himself, Steven Grant Rogers in all his towering blond glory.

"No, no it's fine." Eddie said quickly, dropping his briefcase on top of his desk. "Do you want to go through there and sit down Captain Rogers. I'll be through in a second." He pointed a finger at the door connecting the two rooms together. The Captain nodded and lumbered through the door. As soon as it swung shut behind him Eddie sagged into his chair and buried his head in his hands.

"Breathe, just breathe Eddie." He whispered to himself and following his own instructions. "He's just another patient, just another patient. You can do this." Dropping his hands and taking another deep breath, he jumped to his feet with a renewed purpose and quickly collected his notes on Steve Rogers, including the folder presented to him by Agent Coulson and the sparse notes that he had made for himself on the little that he'd seen of the Captain.

Crutching through the door he saw Steve sat uncomfortably on one of the only armchairs, his back straight and hands clasped together. Eddie sent him a small smile and awkwardly held out a hand which the blond quickly jumped up to shake.

Eager to please or just being polite?

"I'm Steve Rogers, but I guess you already know that." He said, rubbing his palm against his khaki shorts. "You can call me Steve." He added.

Eddie smiled fully. "I'm Agent Edward Wright. Shield psychologist and criminal analyst. Call me Eddie." He gestured for Steve to sit back down and slid into the chair opposite him, dropping his crutches next to the chair and absently shuffling his papers. Steve just looked incredibly uncomfortable, taking in every detail of the room and avoiding eye contact. "Do you know why you've been asked to speak to a psychologist?" 

His eyes snapped over to meet the psychologists and he let out a ghost of a smile. "I guess it's because I haven't been doing so well lately."

"What do you mean by not doing so well?" He asked, unscrewing his pen lid.

Steve shrugged, playing with his finger tips as he stared at Eddie. "Well I've gone a little crazy since Bucky turned up at the Avengers tower."

"Would you like to talk about what happened at the tower?"

Steve shook his head. "No thankyou."

Eddie opened his folder and dropped some of the extra sheets of paper face down on the small table next to his armchair. He balanced the folder on his lap and poised a pen over meagre notes.

-Avoiding issues  
-Potentially due to mistrust or guilt

Eddie wrote down, talking all the while. "That's completely fine Steve. This is a safe space where you can talk about anything. I'm not going to pressure you into anything, I'm just somebody that you can talk to."

The Captain pursed his lips and gazed at him appraisingly. "Like what? My childhood?"

"If you want, yes. We can talk about anything you want." Steve remained silent, staring at Eddie in what he thought was contemplation. 

Eventually he sighed and leaned back into his chair. "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you tell me about the first thing that comes into your mind when you think about your childhood."

"Alright, I guess that the first thing that comes to mind is Bucky."

"What about Bucky?"

"Just that nearly every day of my life was spent with him until we enlisted."

-Close bond with Bucky Barnes (BB)  
-Potentially an unhealthy, dependant relationship

Eddie scrawled onto his notes. "What was your relationship like with him?"

Steve let out the first real smile of the session. "It was amazing. We were best friends, like brothers. You probably already know, but I was really sick as a kid. Really, really sick. Most nights my ma was worried that I wouldn't see the next day. He used to look after me when my ma' was workin'; she was a nurse an' worked long nights." He explained, a familiar Brooklyn drawl coming back into his words. "Durin' the day she was too tired to look after me properly, so Buck' was there to take care a' me."

-Childhood hero.  
-Father figure?

"How sick were you as a child?" Eddie asked, still scrawling away.

"The sickest kid you'd 'ave ever met. I had asthma and bad lungs. So ever' cold was life threatenin' and I got pneumonia nearly ever' winter. Buck' would stay over nearly ever' night and help me breathe while my ma was out working for medicine"

"It says here that you were bullied quite badly. Why don't you tell me about that?"

Steve's eyes lost their light for a second. "Yeah, I was the best punchin' bag at school. Mean kids who wanted to take a swipe at an easy target. But Buck' used ta' protect me." His face lit up at the mention of Bucky's name. "Nobody would dare ta' touch me when he was 'round. But I used to jump into fights for other kids when they were bullied or for a dame who had said no to some jerk. I came home with cuts an' bruises nearly ever' day."

"How would Bucky react to that?" Eddie asked, pen moving non-stop.

"He'd be spittin' wi' rage. Wanna' go out and beat the jerks senseless. I stopped him ever' time though, he used to call me a self-sacrificing jerk."

-BB protected and nurtured SR. Partially explains attachment.

"Why did you jump into fights so easily then? If it angered Bucky?"

Steve shot him a glare. "Why'd 'ya think? I was fightin' for what was right! Bucky was mad but I wasn't gonna' leave somebody to be hurt when I could help 'em out."

"So you've always put yourself in front of others for what was right, even when you would get hurt?"

"'Course I would. I wasn't gonna' leave somebody else to be hurt."

"Does that even happen when you're in battle? Would you throw yourself in front a bullet for somebody else?"

Steve shrugged. "Already 'ave a few times already. Done it for most a' the avengers."

-Careless regard for own safety.  
-Reckless attitude to own life.

"But the Avengers could easily protect themselves. Why would you put your own life at risk when it's unnecessary?" Eddie found himself receiving a second glare form Captain America in the space of ten minutes. 

"It's not a concious decision. I just sorta' do it."

Eddie underlined 'Careless regard for own safety' in his notes.

He paused for a few seconds as the Captain continued to glare at him. "Shall we carry on talking about Bucky?" His glare dropped and his face lit up. 

"Sure. What do ya' wanna' know?"

Steve spent the remainder of their session gushing about Bucky and talking about their childhood together, telling Eddie about their antics, pranks and double dates. He barely mention his own family or even Bucky's.

All he spoke about was Bucky.

By the time they were finishing, Eddie had a piles of notes to sort through and work on.

He put the lid back onto his pen and closed his folder. "Sorry Steve, but we're out of time. I only scheduled you for an hour long session." The Captain looked disappointed in having to stop talking about Bucky and Eddie smiled to himself. "But we can arrange for an appointment for next week if you'd like that."

The blond's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What would we talk about?" He said cautiously.

Eddie shrugged. "Whatever you'd like. The same rules from this session apply to the next session. I'm not going to pressure you into anything and you can talk about whatever you want."

"Will you tell anybody about what we talk about?"

He shook his head. "Patient-Doctor confidentiality. I can't talk about whatever is said inside this room to anybody else." Seeing that the man wasn't convinced, Eddie leaned forward and leaned his elbows on his knees to make eye contact with the blond's baby blues. "Look, Steve. You are under no obligation to talk to me, if you want you never have to see me again. I am solely here as somebody that you can talk to. I'm not going to force you to talk about anything or to shove pills down your throat. I'm just somebody that you can talk through your feeling or thoughts with. If something bothers you or you have an nightmare or anything like that, I'll be here. Now would you like to book an appointment for next week?"

Steve nodded dumbly.

"Same time, same place?"

He nodded again.

"Great, I'll write you in. But remember that if you need to talk to anybody during the week as well, my door is always open."

"Thanks Eddie." Steve said, looking slightly dazed. He slid to his feet and walked over, holding out a hand. After a quick handshake he left, closing the door after himself.

Eddie sighed in relief and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small orange bottle of pills. Popping the cap, he swallowed two pills dry, only gagging slightly. The pain in his ankle immediately abated and he tried not to think about what could be in the pills in order to make them so strong.

Grabbing his folder and shoving it beneath his arm, he crutched back through the doorway and into his seat.

"Fuck." He said loudly, just once to make himself feel better before he started work on organizing his notes and sending a highly detailed email to Agent Coulson.

He didn't get a personal reply, only one of the automated Shield ones that told him that the email had been received.

For the millionth time that day, Eddie wished that he was at home with his mother.

******

Three weeks later found Eddie in the same position at the desk working on paperwork for the crew at the Arctic base. It wasn't exactly a surprise to him when he found out that nearly every person there was damaged in some way. Most people who fucked up in Shield were sent somewhere remote with a specialist psychologist to sort themselves out. It's not like a valuable asset to Shield could exactly be fired. So this was their solution, to stick them in the middle of nowhere and cross their fingers that they would get better.

He shuddered to think about what would happen if somebody didn't get better.

So Eddie was very busy during his time there, having at least one session a day with most of the crew. It wasn't exactly a joy to help the people who had 'accidentally' killed somebody or who didn't mean to torture that person even after they gave them the information that they wanted.

His least favourite patients were Psychopath #1 and #2 from the quinjet, who were both convinced that there was nothing wrong with them and had a complete grasp of their sanity. Even though Psychopath #1 had mercilessly executed an entire tribe in South America for no discernible reason and Psychopath #2 had blown up an entire apartment complex in order to kill one man.

Suffice to say, Eddie hated his job.

He was stuck in an underground bunker for who knows how long with a group of people that were probably the most dangerous people he had ever met and were payed to be that way.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a golden head poking into the doorway accompanied by a small knock.

"Hey, am I early?" Steve asked, slowly swinging the door open wider. 

"No, you're just on time. Go on through." The Captain sent him a small smile and traipsed through the room and into his patient room. Steve was easily the most sane person here. At most he had an obsession with Bucky that could be classed as more of an infatuation than anything else. But still, it was Eddie's job to talk to him every week, so that's what he would do.

He was still on crutches and in a cast, but he could get around much more quickly and easily. He gathered his now familiar folder for Steve under his arm and left his keys and pills on the desk before following Steve through the doorway. After his second session where Steve had once again just talked about Bucky, they had both agreed that the sessions were good for him and had bumped up his time to two sessions a week. Over the past three weeks Eddie felt that they had built up a good trust together, and Steve had started to open up a lot more to him. But only about Bucky. He had revealed the nature of their relationship and how he'd been in love with him for roughly eighty years now.

Eddie felt that Steve was a little above his pay grade, but he wouldn't stop seeing him. Mainly because Agent Coulson was ignoring all of his emails. 

But also because he had built up a trust with him that could potentially make Steve worse if it was broken.

Mainly because of Coulson though.

Fucking Coulson.

They settled into their usual chairs with minimum fuss, exchanging pleasantries all the while. Once Eddie had situated himself and balanced his notes on his knee, he unscrewed his pen lid and looked up at Steve. This usually signified the official start of their session.

"So, Steve. I feel like we've built up a good trust together, and I feel that you've really been opening up to me, which is great. Usually we just talk about whatever is on your mind, but today I want to guide our conversation a little and talk about Darcy Lewis." He didn't miss how the Captain tensed up and his jaw tightened.

"What about her?" He bit out, almost glaring at the psychologist.

-Instant reaction of anger towards Darcy Lewis (DL)  
-Muscles tense and difficulty to speak through anger  
-Immediate glare

Eddie kept his tone soothing and calm whilst scribbling down Steve's reaction. The familiar sound seemed to calm him down a little, but his shoulders remained tense.

"Anything you want Steve. Maybe your thoughts, or your feelings about her. Initial impressions, whatever you'd like." He paused, looking up at Steve pensively. "Unless you want to talk about something else." He asked, raising one eyebrow.

Steve sighed, knowing exactly what Eddie was doing. "No, no it's fine. I'll talk about her."

"Good, now first thing's first. Tell me about how you met her."

Steve launched into his story. "Well, it was after the battle of New York and Tony invited us all to live in the tower with him."

"Tony Stark?"

He nodded, "Yeah, he invited the Avengers to live there since most of us didn't really have anywhere to go. Maybe Natasha and Clint did, but I think they liked having a place to call home."

"What about you? Why did you say yes?"

The blond shrugged. "I only woke up a month before they called for the Assemble and I spent most of that staying at Shield." He paused, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a second. "They weren't exactly the most welcoming."

"Why's that?" Eddie gently probed.

"Too many people in lab coats poking and prodding at me. I felt like a science project half the time."

-Doesn't enjoy being seen as something out of the ordinary

"I'm assuming that Tony Stark didn't treat you like that."

He shook his head. "No, Tony... Well Tony's Tony. He treats everybody the same. Didn't matter if you turned into a massive rage monster or if you'd spent the last seventy years in ice. We were all the same to him."

"Did you like being treated like that?"

"Yeah. It was refreshing. So I moved into the tower a week after he asked. The rest of the team did too, although Thor went back to Asgard for a while. But I found my own Apartment in DC before Thor got back and moved out." At Eddie's questioning look, he continued to explain. "I just needed a place to call my own. I went from a Shield issued apartment to staying in Stark's tower and I didn't have anything. I wanted something to call mine." 

-Independent

The psychologist nodded and gestured for him to continue.

Steve cleared his throat before he carried on talking. "I went back to the tower fairly often to do team building exercises and for missions, so I saw the team all the time. But then I get a text from Natasha telling me that they were throwing a party for Jane Foster."

"Jane Foster?"

"She's an Astrophysicist that Thor's sweet on. They were together long before The Battle of New York."

"So you went to this party?" Eddie prompted and Steve quickly caught on.

"Yeah, I turn up with a bottle of wine and my pal Sam and the party's in full swing. Everybody's already soused except Pepper, Bruce and Natasha. Thor brought some Asgardian mean which could knock even me out."

"Is this when you met Darcy for the first time?" He doesn't miss how Steve's hands clench into fists at the mention of her name. His body tenses but he nods anyway.

"Yeah it was. She was the pretty little thing that looked like a pinup from back then. Me an' Buck' had a picture pinned up on our wall of a girl that' looked just like her. She has this long black hair that was pinned outta' her face and her lips were bright red. She was dolled up pretty nice and was flirting with most a' the guys there."

"What did you think when you first saw her?"

"I thought that no girl from my time woulda' behaved that way. She was cursin' like a soldier and was showin' off mosta' her body." He went silent for a few seconds, staring at his hands. "I also thought tha' Buck' woulda' loved her."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. I guess that she was exactly the kinda' girl Buck' woulda' gone for; beautiful with a sharp tongue. She wasn't scared to take what she wanted and was a real spitfire."

"Did you talk to her at the party?"

He smiled softly. "More like she talked to me. Waltzed right up ta' me and asked if I wanted to dance." He looked up at Eddie. "I wanted ta' say yes, but it felt wrong. Like I was cheatin' on Buck'."

"So you said no?"

"I said no. Then Sam stepped in and said that he would love to. She grinned at me before walkin' away with him." He shook his head. "I didn't know tha' girls could be that forward with guys. I'm not sure tha' I liked it."

-Continued misplaced sense of attachment to BB

Eddie quickly moved the conversation along. "Did you ever see or speak to her again after that?"

The Captain shrugged again. "I saw her in passing, always gave her a kind word or asked how she was but that was it. Our paths didn't really cross that often." His eyes darkened. "Until Bucky came back."

The psychologist spoke carefully, sensing that Steve was very close to losing his temper. "Would you like to tell me what happened to lead up to Bucky coming back?"

"Well, when I woke up from the ice, Fury told me that he had a mission for me if I wanted it. Apparently none of his other agents were up to it. For the first month I wasn't allowed in any of the action until the Avengers were initiated. After I moved back to DC they called me in ta' actually do the mission. I had ta' find an assassin called the Winter Soldier. I was travelling around the world following all of his kills, trying to find him. All of this was between missions for the Avengers.

-Almost immediately working after ice  
-Almost no time to adjust emotionally to drastic life change.

"I was on his heels for a good few months before I finally caught up to him. He was built the same way as me, except he had this clunky metal arm that coulda' crushed my skull if he wanted to. We fought, and he was strong. Stronger than me even. He was one a' tha' first people that could keep up with me if he wasn't actually better than me. He had this, this muzzle thing." He gestured over his face with one hand to show whereabouts it sat on the Winter Soldier's mouth. "To stop him talkin'. I guess during the fight I musta' gotten him pretty good in the mouth, because one second it's on him and the next it's skidding away across the floor. I look up and it's him. It's Bucky." The Captain's eyes had gone glassy and his skin pale.

"How did that make you feel? Seeing him again after so long?"

"It was hard. So hard. My mind went blank and I was just starin' at him the whole time but he had no idea who I was." A tear slipped down Steve's cheek and his voice became thick and gruff. "I said his name and he just looks at me. 'Who the hell is Bucky?' He says and I think my heart just about broke."

-Normal reaction to seeing BB as Winter Soldier

"What happened next?"

"Well we carry on fightin'. He was just as determined to kill me as I was to bring him back. O' course he knocks me out and escapes but I go back to Shield and tell Fury what happened. He figures that since Buck' was experimented on durin' the war, they did something to him that made him like me. Except the procedure probably drove him crazy. Made him into the Winter Soldier."

"And how did you capture Bucky?" Steve wipes away the dampness from his cheeks and carries on talking, ignoring tissue offered by Eddie.

"I'd been searchin' up and down the country for him. I knew he was out there and he left a trail of destruction wherever he went. We'd always turn up just as he left. We were always a step behind. Until we searched one of the places that he'd raided."

"A Hydra base?"

Steve's brow furrowed. "Hydra?" He asked, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

Eddie forced his face to remain neutral as his mind raced. "The place Bucky raided. Was it a Hydra base?"

Steve froze for a few seconds as the two became trapped in a twisted staring competition. Steve broke first by looking down at his hands and then around the room. His eyes frantically looked at anywhere but Eddie who stared at him in confusion. 

The psychologist sensed that he was on the edge of something, something big, but he had to proceed carefully. "Steve," He said softly. "Do you know what Hydra is?"

He didn't reply but eyes continued to furtively search the room. His breathing sped up, until he was taking short pants of air.

"Steve." He repeated. "Do you know who experimented on Bucky during the war?" Steve began trembling and his forehead grew shiny with sweat. "Do you know who you were fighting in the first world war?" His limbs were fully shaking now, and he started shake his head back and forth as his skin impossibly became even paler.

"I-I-I don't know... I'm not sure..." He stuttered, his voice coming out strangled.

Eddie leaned forward and pressed a hand onto Steve's knee. The blond's eyes flickered over to his hand, before going to his face and back again. "That's okay Steve. You're okay. Just breathe with me." Steve stared at him and followed the order until his breathing became regular again. His eyes were still glassy though.

"I-I think I'd better go Eddie." He murmured slowly, a couple minutes later.

"I'm not sure that I should leave you alone Steve." He replied, keeping his voice quiet and gentle.

"No, no it's fine. I just... I need to be by myself." The blond said, raising his eyes to meet the psychologist's.

Sensing that he'd pushed him enough for the day, Eddie nodded. "Okay, just remember that I'm here if you need me." Steve nodded once, standing up and lumbering out, his back stiff and movements slow. Halfway to the door his hip bumped into the small table next to the Eddie's armchair. It fell over, spilling loose sheets of paper, old pens and tissues all over the ground.

"Sorry." Steve said quietly, still moving and not offering to help.

"It's okay." Eddie said, awkwardly balancing on one foot to pick up everything from the ground. It took him a good ten minutes to clear everything up and by which time Steve was long gone.

Sighing, the psychologist moved all of his notes to his desk and began furiously scribbling away.

His notes read;

-Repressed memory of Hydra  
-Severe panic attack upon questioning  
-No memory of Hydra's part in the war or it's association with BB  
-Only mention of the past is BB with vague, superficial mentions of family or friends  
-Needs further examination into past and memories  
-Repressed memory could explain reaction to BB in the tower : BB or DL could have mention Hydra.

He wrote up the day's notes before typing them up and sending them to Agent Coulson as he usually did. Except this time he titled the email as urgent and asked for a copy of the recording of what happened at the tower. He may or may not have also begged for a reply at the bottom, but that was just between him and Coulson.

He then pored over his notes so far and meticulously read through the folder for the millionth time, searching for anything he may have missed about Steve's history with panic attacks. There was nothing though, and he was pulled away from his work ten minutes later when his laptop dinged, meaning that he had an email.

It was from Shield and enclosed was the usual message saying that his email had been received, but it also came with a copy of the recording. He eagerly downloaded it and while he was waiting, Eddie grabbed his bottle of painkillers from his desk and took two, easily swallowing them dry.

He was only supposed to take one a day, but his ankle was hurting fiercely, as it always seemed to after a session with Steve Rogers. 

The pain faded just as the laptop dinged again. The download was complete.

He played the recording and leaned back into his chair, gingerly propping his legs on top of the desk. The video shows a young woman sat down, wearing hulk themed pyjamas and fidgeting. She was alternating pulling at the handcuffs that attached her to the table and drumming her fingers against the table. Her hair was pinned out of her face and her lips were painted a bright red.

It wasn't difficult to figure out that this was Darcy Lewis. 

A light fixture hung low, just above her head and cast her face in a harsh light. She didn't appreciate it either, if her sneer was anything to go by. The sound of a door swinging shut was followed by a stern voice. The owner of the voice was just out of view of the camera, but Darcy stared at them with a bored expression.

"Darcy Lewis?"

She rolled her eyes. "I think you know who I am, otherwise this would get really embarrassing for you really quickly."

"Would you like to explain to me how long you've been working with Hydra?"

She heaved a sigh that moved her entire body. "You see I would, like I really would love to. But the thing is that I don't work for or with Hydra. I hate to burst your bubble but it's the truth." Her voice was steeped in sarcasm and it was clear that the interrogator didn't care for it by how harsh his tone suddenly became.

"Miss Lewis, you might want to consider who you're talking to because the longer you avoid our questions and give us smartass replies, the longer you will be held in confinement and questioned."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Keeping me in confinement won't change the truth dumbass. Now I want to speak to Natasha Romanov."

The voice was smug to say the least. "Sorry Miss Lewis, but that isn't possible right now."

She sat up and gently adjusted the cuffs like they were a pair of gloves. "Then I want a phonecall."

"That isn't possible right now." 

This time she glared. "How about a glass of water then? Or a bathroom break?"

"Sorry, none of those things are possible until you answer our questions."

She slammed her hands against the table, handcuffs jangling and her eyes gleaming with rage as her mouth turned downwards. "That's a fucking violation of my human rights asshole. You're breaking no small number of laws right now. You want to go to prison? Because as soon as I'm out of these cuffs you're going away for the rest of your fucking life!" She shouted, tugging and pulling at the handcuffs with little result.

The voice turned impossibly smugger. "Nazis don't deserve rights Miss Lewis. But, I guess I should never let you out of those cuffs just in case." A hand came into view as he dangled a pair of keys. She followed them with her eyes before they were cruelly snatched back. "Good luck, you'll be here for a long time." The sound of a door slamming shut made Darcy flinch.

There was almost seven hours of footage on the recording, so Eddie skipped through most of it, the interrogation tactics making him feel slightly sick. He paused the video when she pulled down her sleeve, showing a tattoo to another unseen Agent. He listens in, making a small mental note about it's significance.

Then he heard Steve enter, reading aloud from a file that Eddie had a copy of. Seeing her look so tired and weak filled him with pity. But what was worse was the cruel tilt to Steve's words as he questioned her. The only time the psychologist had ever seen Steve angry was when he talked about Darcy Lewis, but even that was nothing compared to what he sounded like here. 

When his voice began raising, Steve's familiar form moved in front of Darcy, blocking the camera. He could only hear what was being said and vaguely see the Captain's arm raising as he slammed his fist against the table. Her voice cries back, as the two enter into a screaming match that becomes a real scream Steve shatters the table and breaking the handcuffs from her wrists. She backs away, arms automatically curling around herself as she screams.

"I'm not with Hydra!"

When Steve replies, it's a gruff, strangled shout that's completely void of all emotion except anger. 

"Stop lying to me!"

The video cuts off suddenly and Eddie hastily rewinds the last few seconds to listen to their final shouts again. And again, and again and again and again.

He listens to it until he knows that their screams will haunt him on his deathbed.

Something was bothering him about it, and he wasn't sure what. He re watched the beginning of the video, eager to figure out what was niggling at the edge of his mind. When it got to the end, he rewound their final screams again before switching off his computer and leaning back in his chair, only dimly realizing that it was past midnight and that he should have gone to bed hours ago.

It was pulling at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't figure it out.

Sighing, he pulled himself up and packed away his notes, putting them into his filing cabinet before realizing that he couldn't find his keys.

They weren't on his desk, or on the floor or even in his patient room. He tore his office apart but they were nowhere to be seen. Scratching his head, he grabbed his crutches and left the room, fully prepared to take whatever the wrath was for losing them when he saw them. They were discarded on the ground, just in front of his office.

He stared at them in confusion for a few seconds before mentally shrugging and snatching them up. He locked up the filing cabinet and his door before hobbling to his cabin and going to bed, completely dismissing the mystery.

*****

He was asleep for a grand total of two hours before he jerked awake. Something was bothering him and now it wouldn't let him sleep properly. Yawning, he pulled himself to sit upright on his single bed and stared at his cabin. It was small and painted the most depressing shade of grey. There was a single bed, a small chest of drawers and a single closet.

If the sad accommodations didn't sum up his experience in the Arctic, he didn't know what could.

Already knowing that sleep wouldn't be coming to him, he pulled on a t-shirt and slipped his little bottle of pills and his keys into the front pocket before hobbling out of the room sans crutches. They were too loud and Eddie didn't want to bother anyone. So, using the walls as stands and clad only in a t-shirt and boxers, he made his way through the base. Silently padding his way down the hallway to his office, he stopped short when he saw his door open with light spilling through it.

The sound of shuffling papers was like a horn in the stifling silence. 

He had locked away all of his notes on all his patients in the filing cabinets and then locked his office up before he left last night, the keys for both in his pocket right now. Somebody had broken into his office! He silently crept down the hallway, careful to place his cast on the ground gently so as not to give his position away. Finally he reached the doorway and cautiously peered around, preparing for the worst.

Any one of the psychopaths that he spoke to on a daily basis could have done it, but it was definitely not who he was expecting.

A muscle bound blond that Eddie recognized as Steve was rooting through his filing cabinets.

He paused, his head turning to look at the doorway as the psychologist quickly ducked back to lean against the wall, silent breathing coming in quick pants. He waited until the sound of shuffling papers started before he dared another peek.

Steve seemed to have found what he was looking for because he was now stood up straight, reading something with his back to Eddie. He moved slightly, allowing the file to come into view. He was reading his own file! All of the notes that he had ever made on Steve were now there for him to read at his leisure.

He wore a mean sneer that Eddie had never seen before as he flipped through the endless pages that were covered with his own scrawl. Suddenly he placed the folder onto the top of the filing cabinet and pulled something out of his pocket.

What was that?

Eddie craned his neck in an effort to see, but he couldn't make it out without being caught. But when the Captain held it over the folder and it flashed, he realized it was a camera. Steve systematically took a picture of each page before closing the file and putting the camera away. He neatly put it back where it was before closing the filing cabinet and locking it.

How did he get a key? Eddie was told when he first got to the base that his was the only copy. He felt strangely sick as he realized that Steve must have swiped them when after he had a panic attack and make a copy. He didn't understand where he could have gotten a key cutter in the middle of the Arctic but he was rapidly learning not to underestimate Captain America.

Steve then moved behind the desk and Eddie quickly hid behind the wall again, as the doorway was in direct sight line of his desk.

He strained his ears and heard the familiar whirring of his laptop starting up. What was he doing? The quiet tapping of keys filled the air and the psychologist prayed that Steve couldn't hack as well as break and enter.

Upon hearing a muffled curse, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He heard the laptop being powered down and then Steve getting up and walking around.

Quiet footsteps sounded through the office, getting louder and louder.

Not louder.

Closer.

Eddie was off like a shot, carefully running down the hallway as quickly as he could whilst remaining silent and ignoring his limp. He darted around the corner and held his breath, waiting to see if Steve would come tearing around the corner and discover him.

Normally Steve was the last person at the base that Eddie would be scared of. But now he found himself very, very afraid.

In the silence of the base, nearly every sound was amplified as he heard the sound of a light switch.

He heard the sound of a door being gently pulled shut followed by the click of a key in a lock. 

Footsteps began walking towards him, getting louder and closer with every second.

Eddie slid to the ground and curled in on himself, holding his breath. 

This was an intersecting corridor, so Steve could turn and walk right into him, or he could carry on straight ahead.

He had never prayed so hard in his life as the sound of approaching footsteps rang in his ears.

He pulled his body into an even tighter ball, ignoring the throbbing pain of his ankle.

The hallway was dark, maybe Steve wouldn't notice him.

Maybe he wouldn't.

He hoped he wouldn't.

He prayed he wouldn't.

Eddie didn't want to think about what would happen if he did.

The footsteps grew louder still, the sound rippling though his body like an earthquake.

They became crystal clear and he knew that Steve was at the mouth of the corridor.

He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly deciding that he didn't want to see which way the Captain would go.

The footsteps suddenly became quieter as he walked straight ahead without stopping.

Eddie felt like crying. 

It had only been about a minute, but it had felt like hours.

Once the sound of footsteps had receded completely, he heaved a huge sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He ignored the sudden taste of salt on his lips and the dampness of his face and instead clambered to his feet.

Limping to the end of the hallway, he peeked out as a precaution before making his way to his office much slower this time due to the throbbing pain in his ankle. He quickly unlocked the door before limping towards his filing cabinet.

It was difficult to sort through the files with his hands shaking but he eventually found Steve's file. He leafed through it, making sure that nothing had been taken. Not that it mattered if anything had, Steve already had a copy of everything in his camera.

Eddie slammed the drawer shut as anger spiked through him.

Steve had broken into his private space and stolen information. It didn't matter to what end or why, all that mattered was that the Captain was supposed to be a symbol of Justice and he had just violated the trust between them.

Also the fact that Steve had been cleverly manipulating him this entire time, making Eddie believe that he was completely harmless. That his only crime was to be jealous of the girl who had stolen his lover's heart. It sickened him, the way that Eddie had fallen for this ruse so easily.

Was any of what he told his psychologist real? Even the panic attack, was that just another excellent performance to steal his keys? Obviously it was, there was no other opportunity for him to get them.

Suddenly, the niggling thought that had been bothering since watching the recording flared across the mind.

In the video Hydra was mentioned several times. Even by Steve himself.

He knew exactly who they were and what they've done.

Eddie literally slapped his palm against his forehead when it became clear that Steve was a fantastic actor and had faked the panic attack in order to get his keys. Everything was planned, right down to his zombie walk out of his office which resulted in him knocking over the side table. It gave him enough time to get the keys.

"Fucking Steve Rogers." He growled, punching the cabinet once more before limping his way over to his desk and powering up his laptop. As it loaded, he grabbed his pills and took another. He was probably getting to a nearly unhealthy level of drugs in his system with this being the third pill of that day on an empty stomach, but he needed it God dammit. 

Grabbing the phone on his desk he punched in a number that he had memorized on the day when Coulson had given him the file that had ruined his life. It was on the back page with instructions to memorize it and burn straight after. It also said emergency only.

Eddie figured that discovering that Captain America needed to be institutionalized was an emergency.

As the phone dialled, he logged into his computer and pulled up his email. Furiously typing, he wrote out exactly what had happened and explaining what he thought they should do with Steve fucking Rogers. Quickly reading through it and deleting any all expletives before adding on the fact that he was requesting a transfer, he sent the email with a flourish just as the phone stopped ringing.

"Agent Wright?" An unfamiliar voice asked, tone stern and cold.

"Yes, who is this? I need Agent Coulson right now!" He all but shouted in his urgency.

"This is Alexander Pierce, why do you need Agent Coulson?" His firm voice reminded Eddie to not speak out of turn. He took a deep breath, begging himself not to freak out over the fact that the head of the world security council was on the phone with him.

"It's about Steve Rogers!" He blurted. "I really need to talk to Coulson, sir. Please." He added.

"Captain Rogers? What about Captain Rogers?" When he didn't reply Pierce continued to talk. "I am the head of the security council, Agent Wright. And many levels above Agent Coulson, I might add. Anything would tell him can be told to me."

Eddie debated for about a second before launching into his explanation. He rushed through his explanation, stammering and stumbling over his words until he finished. "So I think it would be best if he was put into an institution sir. I don't have the resources to help him and the isolation will be making him worse if anything."

There was a pregnant silence.

"What would you propose should be done, Agent Wright?

Eddie replied instantly. "I think he should be immediately relocated to somewhere where they can take care of him. He definitely shouldn't be among society but he needs more more mental stimulation than the same damaged people that he sees every day here. But relocation is key, that and an institution where they can take care of him properly."

"And have you told this to anybody else?"

He shook his head before realizing that Pierce couldn't actually see him. "No sir. I mean I did email the information to Agent Coulson, but other than that, no I haven't."

"Good. Now please put the phone on speaker and turn the volume up."

Eddie took the phone away from his ear and stared at it in confusion for a second. "I'm sorry sir, what?"

"You heard. Put the phone on speaker, please. Now agent." He hurried to do as he was asked.

"You're on speaker now, sir."

"Good." His voice rang out through the room, loud and clear. It made Eddie wince for a second as he worried for the other occupants of the base. Then he remembered that his office was tucked into the far corner of the base and his bedroom was the closest to it.

"Please come in now Captain." His eyes shot up as the door swung open to reveal a smiling Steve.

"Hey Eddie." He said softly, stepping in and closing the door behind him. The psychologist felt his eyes widen in horror as he looked comically between the Captain and his phone.

"You know, Agent Wright," Pierce's voice rang out conversationally, filling the office. "If you hadn't of gotten out of bed this morning, you might have lived." Eddie couldn't stop the gasp of terror from leaving his mouth. "You know what to do Captain Rogers. I'll have you relocated in the morning, so please make it look like an accident. Hail Hydra."

"Hail Hydra." Steve repeated, staring at Eddie with a widening smile as the phone hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally just wrote solidly from midday until twenty past eight. Anybody else proud of me? I did only because of the lovely comments on the last chapter.
> 
> So yeah, there's your plot twist. The next chapter will show what the Avengers have been doing for the last three weeks, whilst the chapter after that will explain everything that's happened in this one. 
> 
> Sorry for the cliff hangar, but I'm literally shaking from a small caffeine overdose and my fingers are cramping. 
> 
> I feel so bad for Eddie.
> 
> Love you guys and leave a comment <3
> 
> ~Ruth
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments and have a great day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drugs were making him feel weak and slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I said that I'd do a chapter about the avengers, but I sat down to write and this is what came out.
> 
> It may be a bit shocking, or worrying. There's nothing graphic, but I'd proceed with caution if you're easily triggered.
> 
> If you guys hate this, I have an alternate chapter planned out instead of this one, so let me know <3

The drugs were making him feel weak and slow. They made his movements sluggish and clumsy. 

It was strange, to know that you were going to die, to feel the darkness hovering at the edge of your vision and tugging at the tips of your fingers.

It was stranger that he couldn't find it in him to care. 

Eddie had spent his whole life fearing it, fearing the end. But now it was here, he wasn't too concerned.

It was like he couldn't muster up the worry.

Which was good, he thought. It was good that he wasn't scared in his final few moments.

He would have been thankful, he decided. He would have been thankful if he cared enough to be anything.

His eyes closed and opened in a slow blink. Eddie wouldn't have realized that he had blinked at all if it wasn't for the slow darkness to obscure his vision of his desk.

His desk.

It was made with solid oak, and he remembered being particularly pleased by that fact. It came with the real leather office chair too. 

Suddenly the solid oak desk and real leather chair seemed insignificant.

In almost slow motion, the desk rose upwards and he was staring up at it.

The carpet was warm and pressed against his cheek.

His arm flopped to land next to his face, fingers still clutching a small orange bottle.

Eddie dimly noticed that his arms had gone numb.

The little orange bottle had been important to him too, he remembered that.

It was empty now.

He wasn't why that was important. He just knew that it was.

Darkness filled his vision again, for what felt like years.

When his eyes opened again, there were blurry shapes moving around him, making noise and shouting.

A dull roar filled his ears as the noises reached a crescendo.

Eddie wanted the noises to stop, he wanted his thoughts to stop swirling and most of all he wanted the darkness again.

He craved it.

Maybe death wouldn't be so bad.

He wouldn't have to deal with Psychopath's #1 and #2.

Nobody would call him the puker again.

Mother could stop worrying about him.

He wouldn't have to live in a horrible room underground in the Arctic.

Death really was the best option here.

But as his eyes closed for the final time,

and his thoughts dimished,

his breathing slowed, 

Eddie found himself 

 

really 

 

wishing 

 

that 

 

he 

 

lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I had to do it!
> 
> I might write another chapter today, I'm unsure, but here you go <3
> 
> Leave a comment, (Don't be scared of hurting my feelings) and kudos, bookmark, the whole shebang and have a nice day! 
> 
> ~Ruth


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Natasha! You have to help me!" Darcy's voice was panicked and breathless. "I can't get away!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Just FYI, I'm not actually dead! I've had pretty bad insomnia my entire life, and recently it's gotten much better. I'm actually getting sleep at night now and I'm not just a permanent zombie of exhaustion. It's weird but I'm actually a functioning member of society now.
> 
> But now that I'm well rested, I've had an inability to write. Seriously. Everytime I've sat down to write something, nothing but drivel had been pouring out. This is the ninth time I've written this chapter, so give me criticisms please.
> 
> Oh yeah, BadWolf81, I haven't gotten your email! :( I was looking forward to reading that so here's my email address, cheese_cheddar@hotmail.co.uk just to make sure you used the right one. Oh yeah, any of you guys can email me about anything if you want, go ahead. So yeah, that's all I think?
> 
> BUT DEADPOOL IN THREE DAYS OHMIGOD I'M SO EXCITED.
> 
> But yeah, hope you enjoy!

"Natasha! You have to help me!" Darcy's voice was panicked and breathless. "I can't get away!"

The redhead sat up suddenly, dislodging Clint from his usual position - sprawled over her legs as he clung to her like a lifeline.

"What's happening?" Her voice and face instantly hardened into ice, completely neutral. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the cottage, but they're outside right now!"

"Listen Darcy," At the mention of her name, Clint was instantly on his feet with a matching expression made of stone. "Clint is on his way in the quinjet. He can be there in fifteen minutes if he hurries." He disappeared in an instant, the door swinging shut behind him. "Which room are you in?"

"The-the bedroom. My one."

"Good, now listen carefully." She spoke calmly and quickly. "If you go to the walk-in wardrobe, there should be a screwdriver on the highest shelf. Have you got that?"

"Yeah, I've got it." Darcy's voice sounded more steady now and a twinge of unease spiked through Natasha.

"Face the wall that's directly on your left and get on your knees. You see the vent cover? Yeah that one, unscrew the bottom two screws."

The line went silent except for the sound of Darcy's breathing.

"Done it."

"Great, now lift up the cover."

"Holy fuck!"

"Grab what you need and go and barricade the door of your room. What's the status on Banner and Olympia?" Natasha dimly registered that she didn't know Olympia's surname.

"It's like you've prepared for a fucking siege, Jesus Natasha. Wait is that...? Oh my God, that's a grenade! Why's there a grenade in here?!" Her voice had lost it's urgency and was now practically jumping in excitement. 

"Darcy, who exactly are you hiding from?" Natasha asked, her voice quiet and dangerous.

"The two lovebirds outside! Seriously Tash, they're actually becoming insufferable."

"You know that Clint is currently pushing a quinjet as fast as it can go, halfway across the world, to get to you as quickly as possible right?" She said flatly.

A sheepish giggle sounded through the phone. "You have to admit that this a little bit funny right?"

"Oh you're in so much trouble Darcy." She promised softly.

Darcy gulped audibly.

"Come on Tash! I'm so bored here! The only people I have to talk to are Bruce and Lym, and they're so hot for each other it's actually becoming uncomfortable to sit in the room with them." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "Seriously, sexual tension out of this world."

"Get out the house then. Explore all the neighbouring cities and towns."

"Wait, I can do that?"

"Rent a car. Go nuts. Nobody's stopping you." She said patiently, massaging her temple with her fingertips.

"Really?"

"Goodbye Darcy." She sighed.

"Bye Tash!" Came the chirpy reply.

Natasha gracefully flopped backwards to land on the sofa with a sigh.

She was not looking forward to calling Clint.

******

"You what? It was about Banner and Olympia getting it on?" Was his incredulous reply, spoken loudly over the roar of engines.

"Yep."

"I'm going to kill her."

"I would."

******

The woman in question, smiling like a maniac, carefully screwed the vent cover back into place, taking extra care not to jostle any of it's contents. 

Needless to say, after three days, Darcy had quickly become bored. 

Sure the scenery, the cottage and the escape was great - exactly what she needed. 

But Olympia and Bruce were growing closer each day, learning more about each other with each passing minute. And it was beautiful to watch, it really was. Bruce was smiling more, talking more and was generally less nervous. It was like he was becoming comfortable with himself again.

Olympia though, it really had an effect on her. She was no longer as chaotic and wild, her hard edge slowly softening. Bruce grounded her, as Olympia brought him out of his shell.

It was - by all standards - a perfect match. 

Almost a downright miracle that they had found each other.

Darcy still found it hard to watch though.

With every small gesture of affection between them, a pang of pain spiked through her, reminding her of what she was running away from. When they sat next to each other, pressed skin to skin, or when he smiled softly at her, or even when her eyes danced with laughter as she gazed at him.

Every single action broke her heart all over again.

What was worse was the fact that neither of them were aware of it.

Aware of how deeply they had come to care for each other in the short three days. How much they wanted each other.

Even though they slept in the same bad every night and Darcy found them tangled together every morning in a mess of limbs.

It sent a sharp wave of longing through her.

Darcy could really understand where Steve was coming from. 

Loving somebody with your entire being, only for them to be ripped away from you cruelly, completely separated from you.

She got it, she really did.

Shaking herself, Darcy clambered to her feet and hurried out of the wardrobe, banishing the thoughts from her mind and focusing on the important thing.

She could finally escape the two lovebirds and go out!

******

Pepper leaned back into her chair with a glare, crossing her legs and pushing her hair out of the way. The intern in front of her shook, almost vibrating in place as he quickly wiped away the sweat that was quickly beading on his brow.

"This is not my order." She said softly, eyeing the tall Styrofoam cup in front of her with distaste. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "What is this?"

He took a tiny step forward and opened his mouth before thinking better of it and stepping backwards. "Uh, a-a-a triple, venti, soy latte."

"And what did I order?"

He gulped, face blossoming into a dark pink. "A triple, venti, soy latte?" He tried, "Miss Potts." He added on lamely.

She leaned forward with a sneer. "Would I have brought you in here if you brought what I ordered?" He shook his head minutely. "No," She agreed, "I wouldn't have. So," She said, resting her palms on the desk. "What did I order?"

He mumbled something inaudible. 

"What was that?"

"I don't know Miss Potts."

"Of course you don't know." She leaned back with a sneer. "How could you remember a simple coffee order? The one thing that's required of you at SI and you are completely incapable of doing it." Pepper grabbed the cup and pulled of the lid with a dragged out sigh. Swiping one finger through the burning liquid without flinching, she held up a finger. "What does this look like?"

"Uh, foam?"

"Yes. Foam." She sucked the foam from her finger and didn't miss how his eyes followed the movement of her lips. "I detest foam."

His eyes widened as realization dawned. "Triple venti, soy no-foam latte." He recited.

"Yes."

He awkwardly gestured behind him. "Should I...?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Yes. Go. Before I fire you for your incompetence."

He scuttled away, gently closing the door after him.

She leaned back with a bone-weary sigh. She really didn't mind the foam, but she hated incompetence. Lately, all of the SI employees that she had come into contact with were completely lazy and ineffectual. It made her weep for the future of the company.

Her poor mood went from bad to worse when Jarvis spoke.

"Miss Potts, Sir is enquiring after you."

She dropped her head into her hands. "What does he want?"

"He wishes to know if you will be joining him for lunch?"

Glancing around at the already finished paperwork neatly lining her desk she shook her head. "Tell him sorry, but I need to carry on doing this work. I don't have time to stop for lunch."

"Sir wants me to remind you that you've missed nearly everyone of your dates together in the last three days."

"Well I can't help that I'm busy Jarvis!" Her voice was quickly rising to a shout.

When he spoke again, Pepper sighed at his miffed tone. "Sir is calling, would you like to accept the call?"

"Fine."

Tony's voice sounded through the speakers in the office, sounding more than a little peeved. "Pepper, you promised that we would have lunch together today."

"Well I have an unexpected amount of work to do. Sorry Tony." Her voice was detached and cold.

"Come on Pep, I know how SI works. There's nothing that you can't delegate for an hour or two."

"I would rather do it myself, nobody else will do it right."

"Pep, we have some of the best employees in the world, there must be somebody that can do it." He said, incredulous.

"Well there isn't," She said primly. "Everybody is being completely useless today. It's a miracle that this company has been able to function so far with this level of incapability."

"You don't think you're being a little harsh there Pep?"

"Not at all."

There was a pregnant silence.

"I miss Bruce." She said quietly, tears making her voice sound watery.

"Me too Pep."

"We messed up so much... I don't think that we can fix it."

Tony sighed, heavy and loud. "I'm not sure that we can either."

"I'll come to lunch."

"I'll be waiting..." He paused, not speaking but not hanging up. "I love you." He said finally.

"I love you too."

But both were aware of how much was missing.

The call ended and Pepper was left alone in the stillness of her office, the sound of her muffled sobs breaking the deafening silence.

******

Agent Coulson strode through the halls of Shield, sending Junior and Senior agents alike scattering as they gazed at him with looks of shock and fear.

For a group of spy's and agents, they really were horrible at hiding their emotions. He made a mental note to tell Fury to up their training. 

He arrived at the reception of Fury's office and sent a small, polite smile to the receptionist before striding straight past her and into the boss' office.

"You wanted me?" He asked, immediately shutting the door behind him and sitting down in the chair positioned directly in front of Fury's desk. Said man glared at him with his one good eye.

"I wanted you to knock."

"Sorry Sir." He said with a small smirk.

"I'll bet you are." He replied, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Do you have the report on Agent Wright's findings?"

"I do." He placed his briefcase on the table before pulling out the folder and passing it over. "These are his notes on Captain Rogers so far, but they've only had one session so far. It seems that Rogers is a very damaged individual."

"That much is to be expected." Fury replied, flipping through the folder quickly. He set them down on his desk and looked up with his lips pressed into a grim line. "I don't like where this is going to go."

"I don't either, Sir."

"Report to me when there's more information."

"Yes, Sir."

******

So far, escaping Bruce and Olympia had sucked.

The place that she was renting a car from was six miles away, which she had to bike to. The fact that she was incredibly unfit was once again thrown in her face when she tried to cycle over the many hills that apparently existed in the countryside. 

When she had finally arrived, she had been so out of breath that she had needed to sit down for ten minutes to recover. The staff didn't exactly hide the fact that they were laughing at her when they gleefully told Darcy that could have rung a taxi.

The car itself had an engine that grumbled and growled and scared Darcy half to death when she first started it.

But it drove easily enough, especially since she was on the wrong side of the road and car, but it got her a good twenty miles through the middle of nowhere before it had quietly sputtered and died.

That was where she was now, sat at the side of the road and miserably staring as the front of the car spat out putrid black smoke that reeked of burnt oil. The same spot that she had been sat in for the past hour and a half.

She had already tried to frantically get her phone to work, both by swearing a blue streak at it and by walking around like an idiot with it raised above her head to try and get some service. She had even resorted to climbing a tree to see if that would give her better luck.

It didn't and she got a deep cut across her inner thigh for the trouble.

So she had to resort to hitchhiking, which wasn't going so well. Only four cars had passed by in the last hour, the first two ignoring her completely, the third being full and the last one having a creepy old guy that offered to 'take care' of her. She rejected that offer, but still held a tight handle on her taser until he drove away.

The silence, the stillness and the crushing feeling of being completely alone had sent her thoughts spiralling down a dark path that was quickly bringing a fresh spring of tears to her eyes and a bleak expression to her face.

The thoughts, scenarios and half-forgotten dreams attacked her mind with renewed haste as she struggled to keep the tears back.

Why wasn't she good enough?

Did James even miss her?

Or was he too busy, building a life with Steve?

The sound of tyres over tarmac and the dull roar of an engine snapped her out of her thoughts as she leapt to her feet and stuck out her thumb.

A large truck rumbled into sight as she peered closer, trying to see who was behind the wheel. Darcy could barely make out the slight form of man with massive sideburns before the truck came closer and closer and.... Drove right past her!

She let out a stream of expletives at the truck, tired, hungry and completely tired of assholes who wouldn't help out somebody stranded.

They cut off quickly when it slowed to a stop about twenty feet ahead. Not one to waste the opportunity, she grabbed her stuff and ran over.

The door swung open with a creak and a gruff "Get in." That sent a shiver down her spine.

Quickly, she brushed a hand through her hair and straightened out her wrinkled clothes. She clambered in and turned to face the very attractive driver with a smile.

"Hi, I'm Darcy."

He eyed her form with interest, his eyes looking over her, slowly down to her feet before working their way back up until his met her eyes with a slow smile. Scruff covered most of his face and met with long, old-fashioned sideburns that ran the length of his face. 

Deep brown eyes gazed into hers as he smirked. "Hey."

Darcy couldn't contain the flirty smile that graced her lips.

This was going to be interesting.

*******

The one thing he was aware of was the thirst.

His mouth felt dry and sharp, like sandpaper. 

It hurt to breathe.

Everything felt muted and dull, as if everything he felt was very far away.

He vaguely wondered if this was death.

If it was, he was disappointed.

There was no great man dressed in white or a red creature with horns.

There was nothing at all.

Just warm darkness.

And thirst.

He decided that he didn't like it, and if at all possible, he would like to leave whatever place he was.

The place where sharp beeps broke the silence and the feeling of being prodded poked was near constant.

Though, he supposed, it wasn't possible to leave.

Death, after all, was quite a permanent thing.

If he could have, he would have sighed.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't do much of anything.

Death was quite anti-climatic.

All things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that happened. Hope you enjoyed. Leave a comment on what you think and be gentle! Criticisms make me happy, so go nuts and have a great day :)
> 
> ~Ruth


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy kicked off her shoes with a sigh and fidgeted for a second, tucking her toes beneath her thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently sleep deprivation agrees with me because I can write again when I'm running on four hours of sleep. Let me know what you think in the comments :)
> 
> Also, my favourite ship is Brucympia! <3

Darcy kicked off her shoes with a sigh and fidgeted for a second, tucking her toes beneath her thigh. The driver glanced over in interest before turning his attention back to the road. 

"Comfortable?" He grunted, apparently not one to waste time on unnecessary words. It was refreshing to say the least.

She cocked her head. "Well not until I have a very large glass of booze in one hand and a cigarette in the other." She shot him a smile and he chuckled, the sound reverberating through the cabin of the truck.

"I can't help with the booze, but..." He leaned over, brushing against her arm as he curled his fist. Hitting the glove compartment with a satisfying 'thunk', it popped open to reveal a small packet wrapped in cellophane. 

"Score!" Darcy snatched up the bounty with a grin, tearing off the plastic. "Cubans, I'm assuming?"

His sent her a wry smirk. "You think I'd smoke anything legal?" She pulled out a cigar and placed it between her teeth, not missing how his eyes followed the movement of her lips around the rounded barrel. Pulling a box of matches out of nowhere, he pulled a match out, one-handed, before miraculously pressing the tip in his mouth and sharply flicking his wrist downwards, lighting it.

"Hey! I've always wanted to do that!" She grinned, leaning in and cupping her palms around his hand. She gently held the end of the cigar over the flame, looking up at him and fluttering her eyelashes in a well practised move that she had tried and tested a thousand times. It was definitely a winner. "You think you can teach me?" She asked softly, cheek hovering inches away from his hand.

His hand were rough. Hands of somebody who had done manual labour their entire life.

"Anything you want." He promised, watching as she smirked around the cigar and leaned back, pulling it of her mouth and blowing out a small tendril of smoke. He quickly extinguished the match before dropping it into the waiting ashtray between their seats.

"So," She said conversationally, talking around the cigar in her mouth. "I didn't catch your name."

"That's because I didn't give it." He countered, placing both hands back onto the wheel.

"Jesus Christ, I've had enough of brooding, mysterious men to last me a lifetime." She sighed, gesturing wildly with the cigar. "Want to give me a straight answer please?"

"Logan." He grunted, shooting her a look. "Should I ask about the other brooding, mysterious men?"

She shrugged, tilting her head. "If you want."

He remained silent for a good few minutes before Darcy sighed dramatically.

"Well there's only been one brooding, mysterious man really. But he was a massive asshole."

"Did you love him?" Logan asked, staring ahead at the road.

"I grew up with him. I was head over fucking heels." He shrugged a shoulder, as if to say 'of course you were'. Darcy ignored it and carried on talking. "I mean, we met when I was little and he helped me against the kids at school. Then he kept turning up to help me. Then one day, he just fucking left. No note, no voicemail, no 'hey Darcy, I'm not going out to get myself killed'. Fucking nothing."

"He shacked up with some other girl?"

She laughed a sharp, self-deprecating laugh. "I fucking wish he was."

Logan didn't ask what that was supposed to mean.

Darcy visibly shook herself before swivelling in her seat to face him. "Enough about my sad, sad life. Tell me about you. You got a girlfriend?" He shrugged non-committally before shaking his head.

"Should I take that as a no?"

"Yes, it's a no. I don't have a girlfriend."

She grinned, the smile stretching her lips across her face. "Good."

He didn't say anything, 

"You should put your seatbelt on." He grunted, gesturing at how she was wriggling around her seat.

"You should put your seatbelt on." She retorted, but acquiescing and strapping herself in. She turned her head to look at him expectantly when he didn't move. "Seriously, I'm pretty sure it's illegal not to wear one. What if we crash?" She knocked on dashboard as so not to jinx it before glaring at him as he chuckled. "What? I'm right. Shut up." She grumbled, shooting him a scowl.

"I'm not laughing at you." She raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I'm just not worried that we're going to crash." 

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" 

He grinned and didn't answer.

"Ugh, I really have a type, don't I?" She groaned, burying her head in her hands.

"What's that?"

She looked up at him with a sigh. "Brooding and fucking mysterious."

******

Darcy wasted no time downing the first shot of whiskey before ordering another one. Logan quickly followed after her, signalling the bartender for a glass of the same. 

After an hour and a half of steady driving, they had eventually stumbled across a small dive bar. The damaged brick and cheesy flashing sign out front hadn't given her high hopes, but as long as they had a working phone and whiskey, she was willing to risk it.

"Hey, you got a phone?" She leaned over the hard, wooden bar that was mysteriously sticky and smiled at the bartender. He was tall with a shining head that reflected the dim lighting. He wore a white shirt that was stained with multiple stains. 

He jerked his head to the left. "Yeah, it's over on that wall." He leered at her backside as she walked away, much to Logan's disdain.

Darcy ignored the low growl of her companion's voice as he berated the bartender and strode over to the old fashioned phone connected to the wall. It was so old that it actually had a spin dial. She quickly spun the wheel, punching the number and absently twisted the coil around her forefinger as it dialled. 

She gazed around the bar, taking in the cheap, wooden furniture, cloudy glasses clamped in the hands of bikers and the yellow lights that hung low. She made a mental note to watch her head around them.

Glancing over at Logan, her eyes widened when she saw the sharp glare he was sending the bartender.

This would not go well.

******

Bruce found himself, for the majority of his life, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The bad news to come.

And it did come, every single time without fail.

When he was young, it fell when his father died. He didn't remember much of him, only the feeling of warmth and safety.

But suddenly, those feelings picked up sticks and abandoned him.

It took years for his mother to move on, to finally abandon the hefty weight of grief that had carried with her every second. Bruce was finally happy. His mother had finally become his mother again. He basked in the renewed affection and love, fully expecting that this happiness would last forever.

But, as he could bitterly recall, if it's too good to be true, that usually means it is.

His sweet, kind, caring mother then met Brian.

Brian was a cruel, sadistic man with a mean streak a mile wide. But he was a fabulous actor, Bruce could admit that. He charmed his mother easily, preying to her low self-esteem and desperation for praise. Bruce sometimes found himself a little ashamed of her, for not seeing through his façade sooner. By the time she saw the real him, it was too late. Brian was too ingrained in everything that was theirs. Their money, house, even their relationship. Brian made it so that Bruce and his mother were completely dependant on him for everything.

His mother had little choice but to watch Brian abuse him.

Over, and over, and over. 

For awhile, it became bearable. Bruce taught himself to conceal the bruises and welts at school and to stay at every after school club possible, any opportunity to get away from the nightmare that was his home life. It was a little ironic that he got into his life's work by hiding out from his evil step-father.

Bruce had a mantra, that things couldn't get worse than this. Things couldn't get worse than this. This could not get worse than this.

He always did hate it when he was wrong.

It happened on his eleventh birthday, when he had gotten home from school. 

What first scared him was the silence. 

His mother would usually be in the kitchen now, listening to music, or being screamed at as Brian berated her for non-existent faults. He vastly preferred the first option, but he'd take the latter over this stifling silence. The one thing that Bruce had taken as the gospel truth, was that silence was dangerous. 

Silence meant that Brian was on the warpath; he'd go quiet, thinking as he surveyed you. Then he'd burst into motion, moving at an impossible speed as he hurt you, destroying your spirit as much as your pride as he broke you down. Breaking people is what he was good at. 

So young Bruce entered his home with distrust, timidly searching for a clue, a sign of whether Brian was out, or if this was the calm before the storm. He carefully placed his backpack by the door and closed it behind him, shutting it with a small 'click'. Then he slowly, cautiously moved into the living room, nervously casing the room before nodding to himself that it was clear. Next, the dining room. He stuck his head around the corner, prepared to recoil at the quickest opportunity if his step-father was there. But he wasn't, the living room was clear.

Bruce was moving down the hallway to the kitchen when he heard it. A steady 'thump, thump, thump' that vibrated like a bass. It hung in the air and reverberated against the walls in a sick, steady rhythm. The sound made something animalistic inside him whimper and moan, all of his senses screaming at him to run, run away from whatever it was. But he couldn't do that. He had to find the source of the noise. 

So he advanced forward, ignoring the hairs that stood up on his arms and at the back of his neck, reaching for the white door with the golden knob that would lead him to the kitchen.

What he saw that day would never leave him. It still resurfaced occasionally, during the split second when conciousness would leave him and he would slip into sleep.

A flash of his mother's prone body on the ground as Brian lay into her, slamming fist after fist against her delicate flesh. He made her bones seem like twigs, snapping them as easily as ripping tissue paper.

Not only did he kill her, but he ruined Bruce's memory of her. Tainting the fond memories with blood and billowing bruises that twisted the colour of her skin and the shape of her face.

After that, he turned on Bruce, beating him within an inch of his life before leaving him for dead. The genius sometimes looked back at that moment and wished that he had died, curled up next to his mother as the warmth drained away from her body.

It would have been so much easier.

The neighbours heard the noise and called the police, who found Bruce just this side of life, hanging on the very thin line between. He was rushed to hospital, his step-father to the police-station as his mother to the mortuary.

Brian went to prison, where he was later found hung in his own cell. His mother was buried next to her parents in the small town that she grew up in and Bruce was shipped off to foster care. He stayed there until he was eighteen when he went to university before signing a contract with the military.

Thaddeus Ross was an imposing figure, too like Brian to be comfortable really, and he demanded results. Which he got, just not in the way anybody was expecting.

Bruce wasn't happy per se, but he was content when suddenly his life was flipped upside-down. He loved his generic apartment, the tasteless meals and the average uniform provided at the military base. Everything wasn't good, but it wasn't bad. It was all very dull and ordinary. Which was exactly what he wanted. 

Anonymity.

Of course that was ruined when the boiling rage that festered under his skin crushed his body and remade it to it's liking.

Suddenly there were far too many people interested in him.

The main thing Bruce had ever wanted was to be left alone.

Which was something that Tony had provided for him in the tower. No paparazzi ever got in, he didn't have to do interviews and he could socialize on his terms. it was perfect. Even when Pepper and Tony approached him with nervous smiles and an offer he couldn't refuse, everything went perfectly.

Bruce cringed when he thought about how naive he was in believing that he could stay like that forever. Stay happy.

He was unprepared more than anything. All his life, he had back-up plan after back-up plan. With Ross, he had a million escape routes all whirring in the back of his mind, same with Shield. He was constantly thinking about what he would do if circumstances changed.

But Tony and Pepper, they felt safe. Like he didn't need an escape route if things turned bad. Because things wouldn't turn bad. Tony and Pepper loved him. Right?

And love conquers all.

Currently, he was in his favourite place, wrapped around Olympia and listening to her breathe softly.

Sure, he knew it was wrong, to latch onto the only source of comfort and allow himself to become so familiar with her so quickly, but he couldn't resist. Everything about her just screamed safety and gentle warmth.

Everything he craved.

However, Tony and Pepper had emitted the same feelings and look how that turned out. So Bruce did the obvious thing. He prepared. Almost instantly, he had a back-up plan in case Olympia left him or he had to leave. There was just one problem though.

"Bruce, I think you're forgetting that I can read minds." She said softly, eyes still closed as she tightened around him. He sputtered for a second, searching for an explanation or at least a reason. When he opened his mouth to speak again, she lazily pressed a finger against his lips, the universal motion for him to shut up. "I'm your friend first and foremost Brucie, and I'm not going to leave you. No matter what."

"No matter what?" He repeated, grabbing her hand from his lips and holding it gently in his own.

"No matter what." Bruce smiled as all of his fears were instantly driven away. "Now answer the phone." She sighed, ignoring his look of confusion and rolling over. The phone rang a second later and he sent her mock glare before scrambling up to dig through the duvet for it.

Darcy's voice sounded through the line, giddy and cheerful. "Hey Brucie Bear! I'm in a little bit of a pickle."

Bruce sighed and rubbed his temple. "How small of a pickle?"

"Incredibly small. Think nano particle small, seriously."

"What's up?"

"Well, the car broke down in the middle of nowhere, so I hitched a ride." Bruce felt his blood pressure level fly through the roof.

"You what? You hitch hiked? Darcy, do you know how dangerous that is?"

Her voice turned light and airy. "Calm down, I had my taser. Anyway, some really hot dude picked me up and drove me to the nearest bar. I just rang the rental place and they said they'd tow the car but I have to make my own way home. Any chance of you coming to pick me up?"

Olympia sent him a sympathetic smile as he rubbed his temples again. "What's the address?"

"Oh Bruce, you're the best! Anyway, it's-" Suddenly her voice rose to a shout, obviously aimed at somebody else. "Logan! Put him down! What the fuck are you doing?" Her voice rose to a squeal before it reached a small scream. The phone bleeped as she hung up.

Olympia was already on her feet and pulling on her jeans. "She's a fucking idiot." She cursed, eyes flashing.

Bruce eagerly agreed, buttoning his shirt and pulling on his shoes. "She is in so much trouble." He scowled, sprinting downstairs to find the number of the rental agency. "Call Natasha!" He shouted up before dialling the number. Oh yes, he thought, she is in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have the next chapter up in three days, I think.  
> Any feedback would be great, drop me a comment on what you thought, thanks for reading and have a nice day.
> 
> ~Ruth


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think it's time for some Steve angst? Maybe an explanation to his behaviour? Me too bros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not happy with this, but I'll edit in the future. Tell me what you think and I how I can improve.

The smell burned his nostrils every time he inhaled, the artificial citrus numbing his senses. He could already feel a headache blossoming at the base of his temple as he strode through the white halls. The footsteps following him didn't make an attempt to disguise themselves, fully aware that he knew he was being tailed.

He wasn't used to the bright lights and stark white walls. It made every imperfection scream out at him. More than anything he wanted to back out of the hospital before he was five steps in. 

But he had to find out.

To see for himself.

So he continued in, ignoring the pain, misery and grief that hung off of people's shoulders like a weight and sunk into their skin, making them appear sallow and tired. He strode past the bored receptionist, pulling his cap down to hide his features and ducking his head. She didn't even look up from her magazine.

Then he was lost in a maze of colour coded hallways and stripes that ran across the ground as if anybody could make sense of them. Harried doctors ignored him, either looking at tired clip charts or consulting each other in hushed, worried voices. The entire place reeked of loss; it made him feel sick.

Beds with wheels attached occasionally rolled past, the squeak of the wheels breaking up the suffocating silence that strangled his voice.

By the time he finally found the room his hands were shaking and a fine sheen covered his forehead.

The footsteps hovered at the door.

The silence was even heavier in here, made even more deafening by the slow beep of a heart monitor occasionally breaking it up. The room was large, split up into six curtained sections, each hiding a bed. A pair of blinds hid the sunlight, leaving the room bathed in shadows. 

Even the air in the room felt thicker, harder to breathe in.

He drifted closer to the first curtain, footsteps silent against the linoleum floor. He pulled it open, the rings rattling against their rail. It slid open to reveal a sleeping man, his face peaceful except for the thick tubes snaking over his face and disappearing up his nose.

Not the right man.

He moved through the room, swinging open the second curtain. Same result. The men in the third and fourth beds weren't right either. Too young. Too old. Too black. Not right.

The fifth bed was different, however. The curtain opened to reveal another sleeping man, his skin a sickly yellow colour and his hair thinning prematurely. He couldn't have been more than thirty years old and a bright cast encasing his ankle protruded from the sheets.

"Eddie." Steve breathed, automatically moving to the bedside. His knees gave way, buckling under his weight and hitting the ground. Pain surged up his legs, the sharp bite bringing his mind some focus.

He was hooked up to a heart monitor, more machine than man and tubes covered most of his body. His breathing was shallow and struggled, every intake audibly rattling his lungs.

The footsteps hovering at the door stepped inside the room and the door swung shut with a sharp CLICK. 

"I didn't hurt him." The Captain whispered, one hand curling around Eddie's limp one. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as the owner of the footsteps spoke.

"He's in a coma." The voice was lacking in warmth, each word sharp and deadly.

The blonde kept his eyes trained on the motionless form on the bed and spoke without looking back. His eyes shone with tears, becoming bloodshot. "But I didn't kill him."

"No, you didn't." The voice replied. Steve flinched as the unmistakable sound of a match striking sounded. The voice became slightly muffled as it spoke over a cigarette. "But what would it matter if you did?"

Steve didn't voice his distaste at smoking in a hospital, simply responding. "We shouldn't kill the innocent, even if it's for the greater good."

The voice chuckled harshly. "So we shouldn't cut off the leg to save the heart?"

"I'm not saying that." The captain hissed, ignoring the dampness of his face.

"Yes you are." The voice retorted. "It would hurt somebody, but it would ultimately save them. Some people are the cancerous leg and we need to cut them off to save the heart."

Steve didn't reply.

"This is just like that. This is the lesser of two evils Captain."

The pregnant silence hung between them.

"Besides, why would it matter if he was dead? If you killed him?"

"Because it's wrong!" He shouted, voice ringing through the silence.

"There are seven billion people on the world Rogers." The voice was deadpan. "Seven. Billion. What's one man?"

"Every life is a gift." Steve's voice was quiet but firm.

"And I suppose that every person is a beautiful and perfect snowflake?" The voice wasn't made warm by it's cruel humour. "Now Captain, you know the rules." The voice turned mocking. "No witnesses. Do I have to do it for you?"

"You promised that I wouldn't have to kill anybody." He said, panic colouring his tone. He moved to turn around, stopped by a firm touch on his shoulder. "You said I could just incapacitate them." He continued hurriedly, facing straight ahead.

The voice heaved a deep sigh. "I know that Captain. I'm not talking about the psychologist."

****

Greg sucked in a huge breath, cold sweat breaking out on his temple as he exhaled quickly. He was beginning to feel a little light headed and vaguely wondered if he was hyperventilating. He slowly backed away from the old curtain separating him from the rest of the room, the flimsy hospital gown not offering him nearly enough protection.

It was a very routine operation to fix the blood clot in his leg. His wife had dropped him off that morning with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush and his favourite book. She left his room smelling like her perfume and a lipstick mark on his cheek. Agnes was still as beautiful as the day they had met and he thanked God everyday for meeting her.

They had ushered him through to get prepared before laying him down and wheeling him away. It was a trippy experience to say the least as he watched the light fixtures above him flit past with prepubescent doctors peering at him. The local anaesthetic had worked quickly and in seconds he was out like a light. The operation passed in a dreamless sleep that he had woken up from in a strange bed with an achy leg.

It was gut instinct that made him hold his tongue when he saw faded shadows moving behind the curtain. Greg knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but the sound of the second man's voice had made something inside him prick up and back away. Maybe it was some instinct borne from predators thousands of years ago that had made the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and his hands grow clammy, but whatever it was, it made him weary.

He backed away slowly, edging towards the button that would alert the nurse as the shadow grew larger and more defined.

Listening to their conversation had made him tremble and left him feeling sick. The second man obviously had no regard for human life and he didn't know what business they were involved in, but it definitely wasn't legal. He had seen enough gangster films to know that they wouldn't let him live after hearing them admit to a crime. Even if he didn't know what the crime was. All he knew was that putting somebody in a coma was definitely a crime.

He reached for the button, breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his fingers slippy with sweat, as the curtain was slowly pulled back.

*****

"Such a messy business. I don't see why they always beg." The voice drawled. "Have they no dignity?" 

Steve said nothing, focusing entirely on washing his hands clean.

"If he didn't fight, he might have survived."

He rubbed the bar of soap carefully over his hands and up his wrists, creating a lather.

"You wouldn't have gotten quite so angry if he didn't go for your eyes, I imagine Captain."

He conscientiously rubbed his hands together, working between his knuckles and under his nails.

"Have you seen somebody about that? I doubt it's the a healthy way to channel your anger."

He ignored how the water was turned red.

"I'm only asking because I care Rogers." 

Steve didn't respond, looking down at his hands and avoiding looking at the mirror. The sink was a lime green and cracked in several places.

"Don't forget to report to your superiors. They'll want your side of events. I've no doubt they wonder why you had to see for yourself that the psychologist is alive."

The towel was abrasive and course, scraping over his wrists.

"Don't beat yourself up Captain. Remember, it's for the greater good."

The door closing sent a wave of cold air through the room.

Steve met his own eyes in the mirror. The scratches were deep and raw, stretching over his eyelids from temple to temple. They were aching and red, sending a sharp bite of pain through him every time he blinked.

"The greater good." He repeated softly, before slamming his fist into the mirror, sending sharp shards of glass flying in every direction. Several pieces hit him, sending lances of pain over his body. He stared at the ground, at the thousand fragmented versions of himself staring back. He sank heavily to the ground, not registering the glass that sunk into his skin as he lay down on his back.

"The greater good." He whispered, sighing as his skin healed, pushing the glass out of his body. Soft plinks filled the room as the shards hit the ground, bloody and sharp.

He stretched out his fingers, wincing as the cuts dripped blood onto the floor, making a small puddle of red.

Steve wondered if there was anything good left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr at AwkwardAndUncomfortable. I'm great at hitting the reblog button. Join me.  
> Oh yeah, exams start on monday.  
> TIME TO PROCRASTINATE.  
> I'm not happy with this at all, I have an inability to write anything good recently but I'll inflict this on you guys anyway.  
> Don't forget that a comment a day keeps the writers block away! Cheers for reading and have a lovely day. You guys rock.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! I wasn't going to make Logan that much of a big character but I love his backstory so much and it kind of got away from me. You'll see what I mean.  
> Enjoy my dear readers :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm completely screwing with the X-men timeline by the way, just be warned. Also, this is kind of a filler chapter and will probably add some depth to two side characters that's slightly unnecessary but sort of just happened. Just go with it.
> 
> Oh yeah, I don't like the beginning but it picks up as I get into it. Bear with.

Logan didn't live his life by many rules. Whether they be ones about his behaviour in public or ones that could get him thrown in jail if her broke them, Logan didn't tend to care either way.

He lived his life doing what he wanted without paying much attention to things that didn't concern him.

Which, surprisingly included quite a few laws.

E.g. His favourite cuban cigars and the occasional bar fight.

He'd never been arrested though, so he figured that they didn't really matter either way.

And though he didn't pay attention to society's laws, he did have a few of his own.

Number one being Don't Stick Your Dick In Crazy.

That one was more of a general idea more that a do-or-die rule so he tended to ignore that one. Or at least he made exceptions.

He would keep the fond memories of the Yoga instructor who was the bendiest woman he'd ever met. She could do things that shouldn't be physically possible. (Of course he would conveniently forget his favourite shirt which had been lost in a sudden and explosive fire that had taken half of his possessions. When asked, she had only smirked.)

The second rule, however, was one that he couldn't ignore. 

It was less common sense and more the knowledge that it would sincerely and completely fuck up his life if he ignored it. And it was just as simple as the first one.

Never Owe A Favour.

That was it.

The one rule that he couldn't ignore.

That Logan lived by.

The rule had been created when he was much younger and stupider than he is now. He was young in a time when money and food was scarce, but favours meant everything.

A favour could mean anything, no matter how big or impossible.  
If somebody owed you a favour you had them by the balls.  
They were for all intents and purposes yours until they completed the favour.

When he was younger he fought in the war. Asking him to remember which one it was would be difficult, he'd been in so many that the disgusting trenches, meagre food and constant itches had blurred together.

The raw hunger and the pure unadulterated adrenaline rushing through his veins had been the same in every one of them. Especially with his brother at his side.

With the other mutants, they had had even less than the other soldiers. The normal soldiers.

The pay was less and every one of their missions and had the red stamp of SUICIDE printed on it.

But they were serving their country. Protecting God's nation. 

Logan cut back a wry twist of his lips when he remembered Stryker's pitch about 'Team X'.

The twist of his lips often pulled back to reveal his teeth in a snarl when he thought of how easily he and Victor had fallen for it.

He remembered the exact details to this day.

Stryker was young then, strong.

He was almost handsome, a strong jaw and straight nose. But his eyes were hard, cold and they glittered with malice.

Of course at the time, he and Victor hadn't noticed it. How could they? They were scared, alone. They were already used to being the very opposite of their nature. Prey. They had been tracked, hunted, forced into hiding.

But with mutations like theirs. Claws. Teeth. Sharp enough to kill. Sharp enough that they had killed. 

Stryker gave them a chance to do what they did best.

Hunt.

Kill.

Be strong again.

Christ, how Logan had missed it. The strength.

The rush.

The power.

And he wanted it again. He was young, he was greedy. He wanted the world to move to his footsteps. 

Stryker offered all that and more.

He could do it all with his brother by his side. The man that he would entrust with his life. The only man that he would be willing to turn his back on. The only man that ever really... Understood.

So when Stryker and smiled at them, his eyes calculated and analysing every hesitation and pause, they had nodded.

"I'm putting together a special team, with special privileges. Tell me gentlemen," He leaned forward, the smile that screamed fake fixed in place as he said the final nail in the brothers' coffin. "How would you like to really serve your country?"

And that's all they really wanted to do. To serve their country. The greatest country in the world.

Logan stayed silent as Victor stepped forward, answer ready for both of them. "We're in." They hadn't even needed to discuss it. They could practically read each other's minds.

Stryker's smug face had it's own throne in the darkest part of Logan's mind, along with flashes of red hair and the feel of needles piercing his skin.

Then there wasn't just the two of them. There were five new people that he learned to live, fight and sleep with every day for the next few years. 

They were both a saviour and a nightmare.

Wade was the most efficient and talented man with a pair of katanas that Logan had met to this day. However, he had a mouth that could drive even the most patient of men to violence. Considering that this was group designed to be the most effective and dangerous task force in military history, Wade was usually sporting a bruise or two most days. When the brothers had first met him, Logan had had to pull Victor off him, growling and and clawing as Wade continued to talk.

Victor later said that he was going for Wade's tongue, pointing out how much prettier he would be if he couldn't speak.

There had been others, John Wraith who could teleport at will. He had been screamingly funny and often reduced Logan to tears, head thrown back and mouth wide open to reveal his sharpened canines. Chris Bradley had been quiet, and kept to himself. He could control electronics but couldn't physically fight. This led to several altercations between him and Victor, with the latter toying with him, leaving him a flustered mess until Logan had stepped in and reigned in his brother.

He was always oddly interested in how Chris' face could flush so darkly in embarrassment. Logan always tried no to leave the two in a room together, knowing that Victor's torment could become psychical if he was so inclined.

Fred Dukes was the main muscle of the team. Strong, tall, but he had the personality of a brick. A strong, durable brick. He was easy to get along with but followed Chris around like a puppy. Probably because Chris humoured him, unlike the rest of the team. Once the two became a pair, Victor left the small technopath alone. Preferring not to anger the man who could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Then there was Agent Zero. None of them knew his real name and the brothers stayed away from him. Both smelling something not quite... right with him. 

He was a marksman. Stryker's right hand man. He did what he was instructed to do, no questions asked. As a group, there had been thousands of late nights in disgusting places, their words slurred with sleep deprivation and secrets slipping off the tongue. Agent Zero's stories always silenced them, leaving them with a chill that wouldn't shift for days.

Stories of small children, women, large villages and blood. God, so much blood. Knives and specialist rope for a special purpose. Dark nights and dark intent.

Logan was disgusted. He ignored the look on Victor's face as the darkness hid everything except for the curiosity shimmering in his eyes.

They spent years together, completing the Lord's work and helping their country. Puppets as Stryker pulled, yanked and twisted their strings.

Although they were the most efficient team in the military, they still received less pay. The word Mutant was practically stamped on their foreheads, branding them as lesser.

So they had to find alternate methods for surviving. The food barely sustained them, these mutant men that required more than the average human. So they bartered, traded and cajoled with the local residents of whatever hellhole they were sent to.

Agent Zero never joined them, always seeming to have more than the rest of them. Wade had a running gag that he was blowing Stryker in exchange for extra. Nobody ever payed attention but it was the closest that Logan had ever seen the ice cold Asian man to riled. 

Wade was a massive hypocrite though, and wouldn't mind trading sexual favours in exchange for something that he wanted. Victor was cruder and usually threatened the locals if they didn't concede to his demands. Logan however, traded favours. He couldn't keep track of the things he had done in the name of a favour.

He had broken knee caps. Threatened and tortured. Extorted and stole. He even swallowed half a pound of cocaine and smuggled it through border patrol once. 

Victor would roll his eyes at him every time that he went through with one of these crazy trades, his familiar droll steeped in condescension. "You're too soft brother." 

Logan would shrug halfheartedly, turning away as Victor would run a razor claw softly down the face of the poor soul who had been unfortunate enough to have caught the eye of the dangerous mutant.

First it was only Victor that had known about Logan's trades and usually illegal activities that came as a result. Then the rest of the team had somehow found out. He would put good money on it being Wade's loose tongue that had let it slip. Soon favours became the new currency in Team X, traded in exchange for extra food, blankets, training methods and anything that could be traded. They were all in debt to each other, Agent Zero the only one who managed to stay neutral and away from the rest of them. 

A favour became the word of God, and God help anybody who tried to deny a favour. 

When Logan had previously owed a favour, it was to poor men and women in even poorer places that he would move through as quickly as he had come in. When he owed a team mate, it was hell. His debt was like a weight pressing down on his shoulders. He and Victor had always hated owing anybody anything, and living in close proximity with somebody who practically owned you, was torturous. 

There came a point when Logan had to put a stop to it.

Although Agent Zero was technically the leader, the men listened to him. They trusted him. Plus, with Victor at his back, they had an advantage as most of the men still held loyalty only to themselves. The brothers had each other.

Until they didn't anymore.

The mission was in Nigeria, he didn't know the name of the place they were in. If he did he had forgotten it years ago. All he remembered was that it was hot and sticky, the smell of sweat pervading the air as his clothes clung to his skin like a lover. 

The first half of the mission was familiar enough, breaking into a secure facility with ease where normal men would have been killed where they stood. They retrieved the information they needed and left no witnesses. Then they went to a village. 

The chief had been waiting for them, his people's scream silenced by the brutal sight of a gun.

Or six.

The chief had impressed Logan, he remembered that much. He refused to give up information about the land that he considered sacred.

At that time, Logan hadn't considered anything sacred.

Then Stryker got angry.

"Victor." His name hung in the dead air, and Logan felt the hairs on his neck prick up.

Something wasn't right. His tone was off, the inflection different from anything he'd heard. It was like the cold malice in his eyes had finally showed itself in Stryker's voice. 

Victor looked up and away from the quaking people kneeling in front of him, staring expectantly at his leader. It was almost like he didn't notice the shift in Stryker, the change. The other members of team X seemed to not notice either, but it screamed out at Logan.

His voice was deceptively soft. "Kill them all."

The smirk that spread over his brother's face made him want to be sick, the cruelty and harshness that opposed everything that he thought was Victor. 

The woman he grabs is young, the fear in her eyes far too old for her. She kicks and flails, but it's useless compared to the fully grown mutant.

"Victor!" He bites out his name, said with more anger than it ever has been.

Victor stills, turning to him as the girl's movements turn slow, stilted. "What?"

"We didn't sign up for this."

Victor cocked his head. 

"For Christ sake put her down!" He smirked and opened his hands wide, not flinching as she hit the ground hard. Team X is staring at the two of them, the first time they had seen the brothers argue in the years spent together. Wade often said the two had connected minds, their ability to understand each other with talking and to move in sync on the battlefield unparalleled.

Logan ignored the stares and the small whimpers of the people on their knees and glared at Stryker, hackles raised. "We didn't sign up for this." He turned around, pacing away, holding back a snarl as Stryker shouts after him.

"We can't let you leave James!" James, his birth name.

Then Victor's running after him, mission forgotten as something alike to panic rises in his tone. "What are you doing?" He's tripping on his own feet in his hurry to keep up with Logan's quick strides, fighting through the undergrowth of the jungle. "We finally have a good thing here Jimmy." He'd been Jimmy then. Only Jimmy to Victor though. "Don't screw it up."

"Enough!" Logan halts and whirls to face his brother, his voice raising above a shout at Victor for the first time since they were young. "It's enough! We've done enough Victor!" He barely registers Victor's surprised and slightly hurt expression before he's stomping away again, eager to escape the dead air of the jungle.

"Who do you think you are?" His voice had turned angry, familiar droll in place. "This is what we do Jimmy! Would you rather be rotting away in a hole somewhere, while they figure out what to do with you? Is that what you want? We're set here!"

Logan stopped and turned, the brothers glaring at each other, hackles raised and a snarl pulling back their lips. "I'm done Victor. You coming?"

Logan doesn't have to ask, he knows that the anger is boiling under both of their skin, just waiting for a chance to be released.

"But you owe me." Victor's words are hard, each one as blow to Logan.

"I what?" He growls.

"You. Owe. Me." Each word is punctuated with a step forward, bringing the siblings nose to nose, heavily breathing at each other.

"How?" He grunts, the familiar pain of his skin opening lancing through him as his claws slide out. 

"You remember why we ran away from home Jimmy?"

Memories of his mother's screams, the tang of blood on his tongue and the screeching pain as his mutation finally revealed itself.

The older brother took a step closer, unfurling his hands as his nails elongated into claws. "I remember." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You killed a man Jimmy."

Logan screwed his eyes shut, restraining himself as his older brother's cruel voice taunted him.

"Do you remember what I said to you?"

Visions of a younger Victor and James curled around each other in the dead of the night, the forest an unfamiliar territory as blood stained their skin.  
"We're brothers Jimmy. You realize that?" Victor had always been bigger and more protective of the two. "Brothers protect each other. You have to be hard now. Hard so that nothing can touch us."

Victor echoed the words of his younger self. "You have to be hard Jimmy. I helped you survive that night, and now you owe me a debt."

Logan growled low in his throat, his entire body tensing.

A young Victor whispered softly, brushing James' hair out of his face. "We stick together no matter what and take care of anyone that get in our way."

Victor's body tensed in return, preparing for a fight. "We have to stick together Jimmy. You owe me."

Logan's lip raised in disgust. "I don't owe anybody anything." He walked away to the sound Victor's angry shouts.

"We can't just let you walk away!"

His cries turned desperate.

"Jimmy!"

"Jimmy!"

That was the night that Logan decided that he wouldn't owe anybody anything ever again.

And that was how he lived his life for the forty years, careful to never owe anybody a debt.

That was until he met her.

He still didn't know her name, just the dreamy quality of her voice and the lightness of her eyes.

He'd met some dangerous people in his time, but they had nothing on her.

If Stryker played with people like they were puppets, she played with entire governments like they were her instruments and she knew exactly how to produce the sweetest sound. She had her fingers resting on the pulse of the world's most powerful countries.

She was the most influential mutant he'd ever met or heard of.

He was just a pawn in her master plan, moving people around like they were chess pieces. It was like the world was a giant spider web, layers and spirals of thread woven and interviewed in a perplexing pattern with her at the centre.

He still had no idea how far the length of her power extended, or if there was indeed a limit. He just knew that he owed her, and it could ruin his life.

When he first met her, she had seemed so... Young.

He'd been lost and alone, no idea of anything, just that his name was Logan, which he clung to like a belief.

Somehow she had found him, abandoned in a place that meant nothing to him. Her fingers had been blissfully cool as they touched his face, bringing some relief to the stickiness of his skin. She seemed unfazed by the coldness of the snow on her bare feet or the feverish heat of his skin.

"Who am I?" The snow seeped through his loose pants as he knelt on the ground, his head cradled by her hands as he stared up at her confusedly.

The pale sun shone behind her, casting a glow around her as she stroked his face.

"Oh, you poor, poor man." He leaned into her hands, immediately soothed, shoulders relaxing as she calmed him. "Your memories have been stolen." He bucks in her arms at the statement, but she holds on, waiting a few seconds as he slowly settles. She lowers herself to a crouch, and raises his head with a finger beneath his chin, so they're eye to eye. "I can give you them back. I can tell you who you are, who you've loved and who has destroyed you."

He nods tiredly, unable to muster up any excitement at the prospect as his body begins to shiver.

"But my services come at a cost." She silences his muttered protests with a finger, resuming her ministrations as she strokes his face tenderly. "Money is useless to me." He doesn't say anything but she replies to his stray thought. "I don't ask for any earthly possession. I ask for something that is much more valuable."

She leans in close, her warm breath fanning over his face. 

"I merely ask for a favour."

Something in his very core rebels, screaming at him as he stares up at her, something primate and all instinct. But then she's stroking his face and the screaming dies down to a whisper, easily ignored.

"Do you agree? I can give you your life back."

His nod is slow and not at all sure but her face breaks out into a smile and all fears and scepticism evaporate.

She leans in close, their eyes meeting as he picks out the thousand shades of purple that seem to swirl around her iris. Then her lips are on his, so incredibly soft and for a second everything is perfect then there's a splitting pain in his head as someone puts in a chisel in his skull and a hammer cracks down on it, splitting him open for the world to see as visions and memories and past thoughts fly through his mind at breakneck pace.

Then he's alone again. Lying in the snow with the half-remembered dream of a dreamy voice and a pair of light eyes.

And everything about his past led out in his mind for his careful perusal.

*****

It had taken a year for him to sort his life out again, finding work and some contacts in the mutant community. He'd asked around at first opportunity, but the vague description of light eyes didn't ring a bell with most people.

Then suddenly it did.

The woman was old, her skin papery and thin. She'd been close to death for sometime now, long enough that she spoke of it like it was an old friend. She spent her days smoking cheap cigarettes in an old bar in New York City that catered exclusively for mutants.

Although she was old, her hands were strong and deft as she dealt out cards in round after round of poker.

"I'm the seer you've been looking for." She said as he sat down, before he asked the question. "And no I am not a very strong one." Her voice was loud and gravelly as she dealt out a hand of cards, easily holding onto her cigarette as she flipped cards over it. "But I lead the community of psychics and seers in this city and we've all had visions of you coming." He said nothing, merely nodding when she pulled a cigar out of nowhere. A scotch appeared in front of him as a waiter disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared.

"What else have you been having visions of?"

She raised a shoulder in a half shrug, jingling hundreds of little bells that were attached to the long shawls wrapped around her. "The woman who gave you your mind back."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the green of the poker table. "What did you see?"

Her ever-moving hands stilled. "A very powerful mutant. Potentially one of the most powerful that we've ever seen."

"What are her intentions?"

She shrugged again, the merry jingle of the bells completely at odds with the smoky atmosphere. "We don't know."

"Well what do you know?" Logan struggled to keep his voice level, his fists tightening in frustration. The woman raised an eyebrow at him, and he settled himself, lifting a hand in apology.

"That she has a job for you." He raises his hands up, palms open and out in question. "I saw two young women, both with dark hair and in turmoil. They'll be lost and alone and you'll give them destination." She recited it like she had it memorised, which, he supposes that she does. "You have to protect them no matter what."

"Did any of your seers see when I'm supposed to help these two women?"

She shrugs a shoulder again and Logan is beginning to detest the sound of the small bells. 

"She says that you'll know when the time comes."

"Wait, you've spoken to her?" The woman doesn't answer. "You know her?" The woman merely looks at him before glancing over his shoulder. A heavy hand lands on his right shoulder as the woman stares at him.

"I've passed on the message. You no longer have business here." He allows himself to be lead out, casting a glance back at the old woman as somebody sat in his recently discarded seat.

*******

A year later, two abandoned lovers and a new country and he's in England. His new job is easy and simple, he drives a large truck and delivers stock from a factory to a local shop. He drives hundreds of miles every day and he's blissfully peaceful.

Then he sees her.

She's sat on a bench on the side of the road, next to a car that he can immediately spot eight damages that would make it a liability on the road. Given the thick black smoke escaping the hood and her pissed off expression, she had probably figured that out by now.

He can see the moment that she spots his truck when her face lights up and she jumps to her feet. She stares at him expectantly as he gets closer but he doesn't slow.

The words of the long dead woman flew through his mind but he wasn't going to stop. He was not going to get involved in whatever trouble that followed this girl with her red lipped smile. He had had enough trouble in his life and he just wanted to live in peace, not live by haunting prophecies that trapped him in the middle of some grand plan. He wasn't going to be some pawn in a big game of chess. He ignored her foul cries and expletives and drove past her, resolutely putting a foot down on the accelerator. 

He made it about twenty feet before a sharp pain lanced through his head. He screwed his eyes shut and slammed down on the break automatically, both hands grabbing his skull. The pain lessened slightly as he stopped the truck and it continues to fade away to something manageable as her hurried footsteps get closer.

He growls once and slams his fist down on the wheel before leaning over and opening the door.

"Get in." He grunts, still rubbing slightly at his temple and ignoring the flirtatious smile she sends him.

It's only when she's in the truck that the pain completely abates. 

Despite himself, his curiosity gets the better of him and he glances over at her with interest, just what the hell was so special about her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Wolverine's backstory and his relationship with Victor is so interesting! Sorry for going MIA for so long but I literally had no motivation to write anything and real life was so stressful. Everything is a little more mellow now so maybe I'll be updating more often, if the inspiration hits me that is. Eternal thanks to anybody who's managed to stick with this story despite the horribly slow updates. God love ya.
> 
> Also, there's definitely a higher plan for Darcy, who knew?
> 
> Comments feed the muses and you guys are awesome.
> 
> Hope you have a wonderful day!


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